


KsLuC-0957

by WyattM



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: Crime Fighting, Darker Side of Pokemon, Developing Relationship, International Police Adventures, Interpolshipping, M/M, Minor Injuries, Missions Gone Wrong, Pokemon-on-human attacks, Slow Burn, Team Rocket - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:01:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 54,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WyattM/pseuds/WyattM
Summary: Before they became the Kahunacop of Ula'ula and the International Police's Master of Disguise, 000 and 100kr were vaguely incompetent novice Global IP agents that somehow managed to screw up a simple data recon mission in Lumiose City.  It's probably related to 000's less-than-desirable crush on his coworker clouding the rest of his reasoning.  Or perhaps it's related to the fact he hasn't outgrown being cocky yet.  Or perhaps 100kr should have been the team lead.  Rating to be on the safe side for themes, 000's mouth, and mild violence.





	1. Global Internal Documents: Hazard, Risk, and Mitigation Analysis

**Author's Note:**

> All work should start with a hazard risk analysis, just for good practice.

**MISSION ID: KsLuC-0957**

Overview of hazards and risks, see detailed report for further information

 

 **Branch:** Global

 **Category:** Organized Crime

 **Subcategory:** Reconnaissance

 **Objective:** Gather data on potential Team Rocket activity in Kalos, Lumiose City within allotted time frame (5 wk)

**Dispatched Personnel:**

000 (Team Lead)

100kr

 **Initial Risk Level:** Moderate

 

**List of Hazards and Mitigations:**

**1\. No knowledge of Team Rocket or other hostile/undesirable activity in Lumiose City**

a. Mitigation: Agent 000 given one (1) GPS-enabled extraction pager (GEP) for use in absolute emergency

b. Mitigation: Completion of mission objectives not critical to current IP objectives

**2\. Agent 100kr has documented speech impediment**

a. Mitigation: No known specific hazard given mission procedure and operating environment

b. Mitigation: Agent 100kr ordered to speak as little as possible as general mitigation

**3\. Agent 000 has documented disciplinary incidents including, but not limited to, reporting procedures and protocol**

a. Mitigation: Agent 100kr

**4\. IP has no operational approval within Lumiose City limits**

a. Mitigation: Operational approval in greater Kalos; Kalos division will be updated regularly on mission activity

b. Mitigation: Agent 000 and Agent 100kr will not act like unrepentant dumbasses

c. Mitigation: Agent 000 will only use extraction pager in an absolute emergency, eg, suddenly change to risk level catastrophic or multicatastrophic

 

 **Resulting Risk Level:** Low

 **Author:** MC822

 **L1Approval:** 81chy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual story is in Chapter 2. It's not just several pages of this.


	2. KsLuC-0957: 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr try to blend in at a strip club in order to chase down a lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The worst thing encountered here is the word 'tits', realistically. I'm not all that graphic.

Agent 000 has never wished so desperately for a camera.

His latest IP assignment has led straight into the seedy underbelly of Lumiose City, a fine establishment known at the “Pink Ponyta” on the fourth floor of a discrete building just within the walls of the old city.  Even Ula’ula didn’t have strip clubs this gross.  000 doesn’t want to so much as brush against the wall for fear of contracting… something.  Building code or health and safety or _somebody_ probably should have shut this place down ages ago. The staircase up to the fourth floor is _barely_ holding weight.  Kalosian standards probably aren’t as stringent as Kanton, if their hotel is anything to go by (000 had issues with hot water this morning… no establishment open to the public should have hot water issues).  He’s already made a note that anything he drinks needs to come from a bottle, lest they earn bubonic plague from poor and/or no dishwashing.

The girls are of acceptable physical beauty at least, so he has _something_ to look at, but they all look like they’re on something.  Probably meth, 000 figures, or massive debts to a pimp somewhere.  A few have walked off straight off stage and off to back rooms with patrons.  Unable to find an open room, a girl is giving out lap dances at the bar.  Someone next to 000 and his partner scrapes something white and powdery out of a baggy and breathes in a line.

100kr notices the drug use and immediately tries to look in another direction. Too bad most of the other directions have nude women, which 100kr already established he doesn’t want to look at either.  And he can’t stare at his shoes, 000 needs him to be the watchman. 000 is about six inches shorter than he is and doesn’t see over the crowd as adeptly.  They have a lead to follow, after all.

000 grins.  Of all the people to wind up partnered with on this, it had to be 100kr- the dorkiest, most straight laced, biggest goody-goody the International Police has to offer.  100kr has _clearly_ never set foot in one of these before, and 000 wishes he could immortalize the equimix of mortification, embarrassment, and fascination that 100kr is vainly attempting to wipe off his face right now.  Too bad every attempt to expense a camera back to the IP has been denied, and 000 isn’t about to purchase one on his own money.

“Agent 100kr,” he hisses in his partner’s ear, though he can’t force himself to sound serious, “try not to look so _green_.”  It’s taking everything in Agent 000 to not cry with laughter right now.  He absolutely takes back all the groaning earlier when 100kr insisted on going through the official file and reviewing the mission hazards for the umpteenth time since they showed up in Lumiose three weeks ago.

100kr shakes his head, as if snapping out of a trance.   He runs a hand through his brown hair and forces a smile, “Yes, yes, I am enjoying this show, I believe.”

 _He is not_ , 000 knows, _and he has no idea how to blend into this crowd_ .  They need to be in and out of this shithole quickly.  000 might be the “team” leader, but he didn’t expect to have to monitor 100kr’s behavior all night.  Hopefully that ace trainer they shook down in the cafe yesterday was honest.  They need to find their man and get out before the gangly straight-edge dork blows their cover.  For the Tapu’s sake, 100kr is staring back at his shoes _again_ , since he can’t override his internal programming to not directly look at the stage girls.

“I believe I shall retrieve us both a drink,” 100kr announces abruptly, turning for the nearest bar, which is far opposite the stage he won’t look at.  

100kr has to be worried about his ability to act here, 000 realizes, if he’s volunteering to purchase alcohol.    Discomfort or no, 000 can’t risk him blowing cover again by requesting another ‘virgin old fashioned’, not after last time anyway.  100kr doesn’t drink _ever_.  The man can’t hold his liquor for his mother’s life and all the money in the world. 000 intervenes, grabbing the other man’s trench coat and preventing him from wandering off.  “No, _I’ll_ get us a drink.  You need to figure out which asshole in this crowd is the ball dealer we’re looking for.”

Admittedly their source hadn’t been particularly helpful.  Agent 000’s persian could only force ‘green hair’ out of him until 100kr warning shot the bulb out of the storage closet lamp… leading them to the address of a strip club their man apparently frequented.  Normally 000 would be a bit rougher (information extraction is, realistically, his only skill), but International Police aren’t supposed to even _be_ in Lumiose City.  The local cops had accused them of frequently overstepping power and barred their operations in the city over two years ago. Fat lot of good it had done them, because this strip club is _disgusting_ and Interpol is here anyway.  Nonetheless, the chief had been fairly clear that one of them needed to already be dead and the other bleeding out if they called for an extraction.  000 couldn’t risk a bigger fight last night.

100kr fidgets a bit, before leaning into 000’s ear and whispering “How should I behave in your absence?”

“Well, for starters, stop whispering that close to my goddamn ear, KR” 000 shoves him a bit.  His stomach knots up from feeling his partner’s breath on his ear.  000 doesn’t need _this_ , not here of all places.  “You look like you’re not interested in women.”

100kr flushes a bit at his words. He knows he’s out of place here, but he is _trying._   000 probably shouldn’t be calling him out on this, he realizes.

“Just watch the girls for a minute and try not to word salad at anyone.” 100kr turns _absolutely_ red.

000 pushes his way past the brewing crowd to the bar.  He probably should have let 100kr wear one of his disguises.  He would be more comfortable, at any rate.  Moreover, the old man costume probably would have looked a little less ridiculous in this setting than his vest, tie, and the ridiculous trench coat.  100kr would have the suit’s blazer on too, but 000 accidentally-on-purpose squirted mustard all over it at lunch lest the other agent continue wearing it all day and suffer heat stroke.  While Lumiose City isn’t exactly Alola levels of tropical, 000 felt as if he would sweat to death wearing a dress shirt and slacks with this level of poor ventilation in mid-July.  100kr must be _melting_ in the crowd.

The argument over the disguise back at the hotel had primarily been over Agent 000 wearing one.  Agent 000 doesn’t do disguises, period end of story.  His partner’s insistence earlier wasn’t going to change that.  There was a negative chance of him borrowing one of 100kr’s for any part of this mission, partially because it is  a ridiculous concept in a city 000 has never set foot and knows no one in, partially because it is  a ridiculous concept _in general_ (any file Team Rocket compiled on them realistically must have at least four pages alone describing 100kr’s verbal quirks), and partially because anything 100kr can loan 000 won’t fit properly anyway.  000 put his foot down firmly and, forgetting he was taking leadership credit for this mission (he’s only two missions short of fulfilling his yearly leadership competency, he needs it more than 100Kr), didn’t realize his partner was taking his word as law.

He and 100kr are usually more of a democracy.  100kr typically argues every last point of everything and 000 tends to just give him his way with things not requiring costumes.  Granted, they’ve never been on a mission on their own before.  Every other time over the last two years, they’re part of a larger team and the senior agents designate the pair the same task to increase the odds of an actual result.

000 should have made him wear one.  Rule one is working with the team you have.  Minus the blisteringly warm outfit though, he admittedly isn’t doing too bad.  The clientele and the employees probably know better than to ask about odd patrons.  Who knows what the answer might be in a place like this?  If 100kr’s speech doesn’t go belly-up, 000 decides as he flags a bartender, they won’t blow cover or give someone else a lead.  He only does that when flustered anyway (or drunk), so as long as 000 only gives him soda and nobody orders him a lap dance, they’ll be okay.

The thought of 100kr getting a lap dance is actually absolutely _hilarious_ , 000 decides as he wanders back to his partner, soda and beer in hand.  He tries to mentally calculate how fast they need to finish up this mission so he can bait 100kr back into the Pink Ponyta and facilitate this when they’re done.  Granted, it’s only a data collection mission- open ended.  They’re just supposed to collect as much as they can about Rocket activity in Lumiose and leave, probably so the chief can win some kind of tender with the Kalos Elite Four to operate within the city limits.  Who knows? All they’ve figured out so far is that Team Rocket has an undefined presence here and they’ve done some illegal pokeball imports.  000 could have pulled that out of his ass on the flight over and taken the whole damn month off.

Miserable 100kr looks relieved to see him, if for no other reason than to have something safe to lay his brown, oversize dinner-plate eyes on.  His eyes always go dinner-plate when he’s anxious.  Or upset.  Or worried.  Like most of 100kr’s quirks, 000 tries not to make fun of how huge his eyes are, and winds up doing so anyway about half the time.

It’s a natural 000 reaction. 000 kind of likes them (they look warm and 000 has a natural attraction to warm, especially after leaving Alola).  He can’t help it if _sometimes_ his first instinct is to belittle things he likes.  Words just come out of his mouth.

“You should get a dancer get-up,” 000 jokes as he hands him the soda.  Onstage, one of the girls removes her thong, which 100kr accidentally glances at before turning his attention back on 000.

It’s also kind of an understatement, on all accounts.

100kr scowls.  “You believe you are hilarious, don’t you Zeroes?”

000 realizes he needs to watch his jokes.  He does _need_ 100kr and the man _will_ be useless if 000 pisses him off.  “Sorry, I’ll try to get us out of here as fast as I can.  Would have done this alone if I realized what that address went to.”

He also cringes a little that 100kr has finally taken to calling him “Zeroes”.  Their code names were chosen on day one, before he even began training- two to six characters, letters or numbers.  They could have any untaken combination as long as their codenames didn’t spell an actual word.  000 thought he was clever with his choice, up until he _got_ to Global and proved to have the easiest nickname to assign.

100kr _had_ been the only one calling him “Cero cero cero”, which is close enough. 000 can never tell if it’s an accent or his weird speech issue going on with the mispronunciation.  The agent has both, but he was excused from remedial speech training when it proved wildly that most of the strange way he speaks are less regional and more mental.  100kr knows a lot of languages and has clearly lived a _lot_ of places… and things tend to jumble up when his mouth opens.  Speech training wouldn't save him.  000 had to stay in to learn the many pronunciations associated with the letters o and u (he only ever used one) and to scrape the islander slang out of his speech (turns out, not everyone is ‘cousins’), so he’s still a _little_ bitter 100kr was off the hook.  And even more bitter he’s been calling him “Zeroes” as of late.

100kr is either ‘Hundred’, ‘KR’, or ‘Motormouth’, depending on who’s talking to him and how pissed off they are.  How he came up with that combination, 000 will never know, though best guess is it came off the barcode of a candy wrapper.

“I have also found myself three steps ahead of where you stand,” there’s hot breath in 000’s ear again and he tries not acknowledge it, “On stage left, standing there is a man of his 40s with green hair sporting a black cap.  He too is disinterested in watching the pretty girls.”

000 goes on his toes to try to find the patron his partner described, but his attempt is in vain. “Eh, fuck it, I can’t see over the crowd.”  000 didn’t even realize he was this short until he came to Kalos.  100kr must be from here, 000 assumes, as he appears very average against the local populace.  000’s “tall for an Islander” doesn’t hold much water around these parts.

“If you would prefer, I can boost you,” 100kr suggests as he grabs 000’s upper arm.

000 tenses over, before shoving his partner’s hand off him.  There goes his mood for the rest of the night, down the toilet.  100kr has been told not to touch him.  100kr has been told a thousand times not to touch him.  “What did I say about liking women?  Hold my beer.”

Passing off the drink without another glance at his partner, he hastily pushes through the crowd to the stage.  As he fumbles for his wallet, 000 tries to push down the sickly, nervous, nauseating feeling that comes every time 100kr touches him.  Well, it’s not true nausea, 000 hates to admit -he doesn’t feel like vomiting.  But the last time he felt this kind of jolt of nerves and stomach butterflies (that’s the closest description he’s willing to give the situation), he was a teenage trial captain on Ula’ula and a cute trial goer was involved in the equation somewhere.  This feeling shouldn’t be happening as a mostly-functioning adult dealing with his mission partner.

He pulls out a few bills and attempts to convince himself that it’s because he’s still hyped on the previous night.  He had been blaming it on a rather prolonged dry spell the last three or four times, considering that a year of training and two years running missions with the International Police without any kind of break would be enough to make him even fall for old man Hala.  But, he managed to sneak out last night and bed a smoking hot Johton backpacker at her hostel, so it can’t be that anymore.  It just has to be the hype. He has plans to see her again if this wraps up early and it’s floated throughout his mind all day.

Either way, he’s going to be very consciously aware of 100kr’s distance from him for the rest of the night and he’s loathing it already.  It’s going to take an entire pack of cigarettes and a six pack for that feeling to pass, and Kalosian beer is pretty shitty.

000 tries to force a grin as he reaches the stage and waves the cash in the air.  He needs a better view, and this is the least obtuse way of getting one in this sort of venue.  He has to force down his weird attraction to his partner for a few more hours and pretend he’s interested in the naked ladies gyrating above him.  He tries to spot the man 100kr described in his peripherals as he focuses his center vision on the dancers.  A curvy, big chested blond woman spots him first, squatting down and thrusting in his direction.

 _Ugh_ , 000 thinks as he cracks a fake grin.  It’s a decent excuse to get a better viewpoint.  He pushes up on the stage with one arm (thank god for the IP’s mandatory physical training) and stashes a dollar bill in the waistband of her sparkling thong with the other.  A man with a black cap, green hair spilling out from underneath, is making for a back exit door.  Bingo.

The dancer shoves her chest toward 000 in rhythm with the music, and he takes that as his cue to ‘fall’ off the stage.  He’s never really liked tits in his face and he’s not about let 100kr see that happen.  Landing on his feet, he flashes her two thumbs up before letting the crowd engulf him and push him back.

“Well I hope you found that experience joyous,” 100kr remarks with a large hint of disapproval, though he’s trying to appear as if he’s enjoying himself.  His eyes are locked firmly on the back of a head in front of him.  That’s the safest view.  000 wants to mention his partner actually looks like he chugged drain cleaner, but they have their excuse to leave the joint now.

000 gets on his toes again, acutely aware of how far his chest is from 100kr’s shoulder.  Three quarters of an inch, maybe half.  “Heading for the back exit sign, 11 o’clock. C’mon.”

Grabbing his beer and taking a swig, 000 saunters through the crowd.  His crowd saunters are an art form.  He’s never specifically walking toward anything, but he’s moving quickly.  He pauses sporadically to look at the stage, to check on 100kr behind him, and to take a sip of beer.  He’s across the floor in under thirty-eight seconds and his beer is gone.

100kr is a little less graceful.  He pushes past people muttering about a toilet, and it still somehow takes him an extra three seconds to get around the thick of them.  Once he’s free of the crowd, he’s past the exit door before 000 can put down the empty bottle and join him.  It's best they both don’t exit at once, but 000 was aiming to be first.

It leads to a utility hallway, a few janitorial and storage closets no doubt with a well-marked stairwell at the far end.  Kalosian building code enforcement has at least made a vague pass through here.

“Sounds as if he journeyed downstairs,” 100kr informs him, checking his bullet count.  It’s one of his little rituals, even though they both know they’ll have to write up a report if he discharges any of those.  000 didn’t bother to bring his firearm along tonight for that reason.  He hates reports.

100kr stashes the pistol immediately into his back waistband.  000 hates when he does that.  He knows 100kr has the safety lock on, but one of these days he's going to forget and shoot his own ass off when he sits down.  

“Fifty-two seconds, by the way, you are certainly moving slow this evening.”  At least his risk of word vomiting has gone down.  They’re going to get shit done tonight and 000 isn’t going to have to worry about his partner’s mental wellbeing.  

 _Not that I should care in the first place_ . _We are coworkers at work, it's his job to take care of himself._   “Took you forty-one just to get through the crowd.  I was trying to give you your dumbshit handicap.”

“Well, let us hope there’s only one exit to this stairwell, since you’re lighting our time on fire,” 100kr winks and takes off.  000 wants to point out as he follows that his statements are bold for someone who can’t order a burger in under ninety seconds.  Instead he chases off after him.

They can run, there’s no one else around.  It’s not the first pick-up race they’ve started for no reason.  000 gives him the lead at the stairwell though.  They both tend to get competitive with stairs and he’s not about to bust his head open tonight.  Maybe if they were being shot at, but chasing a lead isn’t worth that sort of damage.

He tries a few of the landing doors as 100kr flies down the stairs.  They appear to be one-way and don’t open from the stairwell. Hopefully there’s a bottom emergency stair that opens onto the street.  In Kanto, there has to be, but he has no idea what Kalos fire code entails.  Hopefully it isn’t as completely shit as their police code and their building code.

Luckily, there’s a bottom door marked “exit” three flights down and 100kr goes flying through it.  000 is right behind him, disregarding the last four or so steps and nearly falling as he loses his balance into the opening handle.  He spills out into the alley behind the club.

100kr crouches down and checks the cobblestone for signs of…. Something.  Footprints maybe.  It’s fucking pavement, there isn’t anything to find.  “He has slipped us.”

“Just split up,” 000 shrugs.  The alley goes in two directions.

“It would be preferable to not, as this man’s affiliation is unknown.  We can try to come back tomorrow if we don’t locate him on this night,” his partner suggests, “Elsewise we may find ourselves in some kind of unwanted predicament.”

000 is less patient than that.  Mostly because he needs to get lead on another mission after this for his yearly competencies, and unless a miracle occurs and he’s duoing with 100kr again, that’s probably not happening if this mission doesn’t progress.  000 is pretty damn sick of begging senior agents to lie so he can check off his leadership competency every quarter  At least _one_ of his qualifying points towards leadership needs to be honest after two years in the field.

Granted, if they want to find him, he doesn’t have time to argue with his partner.  They can go find their lead from earlier and 000 can knife him or something instead this time.  Or they can get a scent match for his persian to track.   _Something._ 000 can’t take this opened ended shit.  The director knows this and probably assigned him to this mission as punishment for arguing in the last ops meeting.

“Okay, fine, this way,” 000 has to make a decision and he’s not about to lose time for an argument with 100kr in an alley.  100kr will argue _every_ point of a plan if 000 lets him and doesn’t elucidate his rebuttals particularly fast.  Part of the leadership competency is learning how to work with your team, 000 remembers as he charges down the alley, leaving 100kr to start an argument with empty space.  If he goes fast enough, 100kr might turn around and split up anyway.


	3. KsLuC-0957:2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 makes some bad decisions involving mission protocols and Team Rocket grunts. And 100kr fucks up, but that's going to wind up on 000's head and he just knows it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Bad decision making. Firearm discharge in a residential area. Poorly described gore (I'm hemophobic... it won't ever be described all that well).

In a full open sprint past the backs of homes and stores, 000 is much faster than his partner.  Running on sand his entire childhood paid off in friendly rivalries, as 100kr is nowhere to be seen when he finally runs into their illegal ball dealer nearly half a mile up the alleyway.  Unfortunately, their illegal ball dealer is exchanging cash with two Team Rocket members, grunt level, when he rounds the corner and nearly collides into them.  

He skids to a halt, red eyes wide.  Green hair on the ball dealer.  Both grunts are white males, about 100kr’s height, skinnier than either  IP agent, brown hair on one, he can’t make out the other with the hat in the way.  Uniforms on both.  No scars or distinguishing markings he can see in the dim light from the few houses still awake and the street level businesses still open.  All three adversaries stare him down as soon as he rounds the corner.

His backup is at least three blocks down a winding Lumiose alley because Agent 000 is an _over-competitive moron_.  He needs to start listening to 100kr on occasion.

“Fuck.”

The ball dealer cocks an eyebrow and mouths something to the two grunts that 000 can’t make out.  He tries to casually turn around, which would be less conspicuous if the slack-jawed panicked look on his face didn’t scream that 000 is aware of the deal’s nature.  They know he knows.  Hell, their ace trainer from yesterday may have squealed and they expected company.  000 and 100kr are never terribly discrete.

Both grunts release pokemon immediately, a zangoose and a camerupt.   000 releases Persian, who is no doubt about to be pissed she wasn’t let out of her ball five  minutes ago when they left the club.  000’s persian isn’t hugely fond of her pokeball.  She’s prone to breaking out of it on inappropriate occasions (usually grocery stores, occasionally dates).

Luckily she notices the gravity of the situation and stands on her haunches, waiting for a command.

He really needs 100kr for this fight though. While his croagunk is only occasionally worth a shit, 100kr can shoot out the eye of a needle from fifty yards.  He can probably shoot the trainers down if things get hairy.  000 is pretty apt to hit the pokemon instead, which would be an auto-dismissal from work and probably a criminal charge against him.

More importantly, his pistol is back at the hotel room and he’s severally regretting that decision right now.

“Persian, night sla-”

He’s not fast enough.  Camerupt launches lava plume at both of them. 000 slams into the poor cat to throw them both out of the way of the molten fireball. They hit the stone back of a building hard, but the lava melts the alley dumpster ten feet behind them instead.

“Sorry girl, my bad,” he mutters as Persian hisses at him in disapproval.

100kr comes rounding the turn at that moment, before stopping abruptly at the melting dumpster.  He turns and fires three shots, though a second lava plume consumes two and one only grazes the ball dealer.  He does a tuck and roll to avoid the second ball of lava.  

“HALT, International Police!” 100kr yells automatically.

Their three assailants all split in different directions, the ball dealer limping towards the main street and one of the grunts b-lining towards the park.  One seemingly overzealous idiot-for-justice they were clearly willing to deal with.  Armed members of the International Police are apparently a different story, even if the IP _isn’t supposed to be here._ 000 could throttle him.  That is the _last_ thing that should have blurted out.  At least he _realizes_ his mistake, since 100kr’s hands immediately slam down over his motormouth and his eyes have gone dinner plate.

The dinner plate eyeballs keep 000 from cursing his partner out right there.  He settles for knocking his hand against his own forehead instead.  “We’re so fucked,” 000 breathes as Persian squirms out from underneath him.

100kr blurts something in another language, which 000 is going to guess is ‘I’m sorry’ based on the proceeding blurting and the frantic hand waving.  “I’m sorry, sorry I am so incredibly holding truly did I not intend to mean to say to that” Aaaand there’s the word salad.

“Don’t.” He can’t really force himself to say ‘don’t be sorry’, because their cover just got blown to pieces and 100kr _should_ be sorry right now.  Per the contingency part of the mission file, 000 needs to call for an extraction right now, after they have a negative three bullet count and a melted dumpster and literally nothing else.

Ball guy is on the main drag of town and no longer worth anything to 000, unless he really intends to report he was stopped by the IP while illegally trading with Team Rocket.  If push comes to shove, they can swing by the ER and shake him down there.  000 scratches him off the list of things to care about at the moment.  After all, they’ve found Team Rocket.  Zangoose and trainer went towards the square.  Camerupt went down the alley.  One of the two is about to get chased down before they hit the pager.

If 000 has to call for an extraction tonight, they’re going to have something to show for it besides a bullet count and 100kr’s stupid blurting.  Somehow, 000 knows he’s going to be the one fucked over for his partner’s outburst.  He always is, even when he’s not designated a ‘team lead’.  The entire IP just expects him to be primed and ready to cover 100kr’s mouth, even in board meetings. Hell, he landed the blame for 100kr’s fuckup at Mt. Moon too, and he can't even remember anything after the second hour of that fiasco.

“Follow the camerupt,” 000 points down the alley.  Unless the grunt is willing to reball quickly he won’t be going anywhere fast, which is better for 100kr.  

100kr shakes his head, throwing his pistol back into his waistband holster.  “Per the mission protocol we need to determine a safe zone and-”

He’s not about to call for an extraction like 100kr is about to suggest.  000 isn’t about to let this all go to waste.  He’s at least going to be sitting on a Team Rocket grunt when they swing by.

“That’s an order KR! Go!” 000 and Persian are already halfway after the zangoose grunt.  “All right girl, get ready, since we need to knock them both out.”  This alley is a lot tighter and more crooked than the previous one, but at least it has no intersections.  000 flies down it, before it spills out into the park by Prism Tower.

Unfortunately, the grunt is waiting for him… or more accurately, his pokemon is.  000 peels into the park only to feel something slash its claws across his left side.  It cuts clean through his shirt, ripping down his ribs.  The claws dig in for a split second, until 000 loses his balance and manages to shake it off in the fall.

“NIGHT SLASH” he yells as his hits his knees, skidding on the pavement.   He unconsciously shuts his eyes until he hears the sound of claws clashing and the shriek of something that is _not_ his Persian.

_Good girl, good girl._

He and Persian may be together on a contingency basis (she’s only around until 000 pisses her off, and 000 knows it), but she does tend to come through for him.

That split second was enough to do some damage.  His side wound stings as he jolts back to his feet and flips around, trying to spot the trainer.  Instead he just sees particularly frightened tourists scatter from the edges of the park.   _FUCK_ .  He is not supposed to be here and he’s pretty sure from the briefing paperwork that this area is not permitted for battling.  At the very _best,_ he’s going to wind up in a Kalosian prison after tonight.

Persian’s on top of the more pressing matters at least, because she darts past him and gears up for a second slash at the grunt twenty feet to his left.  The grunt turns on his heels to try to recover his zangoose before continuing towards the next alley entrance, but Persian rears for an attack on him.  Unfortunately, a skarmory comes out of nowhere and lands a hit before she can make contact.

“FUCK,” 000 frantically scans the tops of the buildings.  There’s either a second grunt floating around in the night or-

Something smacks 000 in the small of the back, knocking him to the pavement again.  He lands face first, unable to break his fall.  000 can just tell he’s going to hurt tomorrow if he survives this.

Without a target in mind, he manages to flip himself over and kick forward before it can land a second hit.  His feet collide with bone and he hears a shout that sounds more human than pokemon.  A second grunt falls to the floor- a second grunt that was not in the alleyway a minute ago.

They can definitely consider themselves compromised.

The skarmory definitely belongs to the grunt 000 just grounded, since it immediately lays off 000’s persian and instead dive bombs straight for him.  He takes a peck in the right shoulder almost as soon he lands a second kick on the grunt, this time in the head.  It goes deep enough that 000 screams as its beak pulls out.

“SON OF A BITCH.  Persian, night slash on the skarmory!”  he yells, as he frantically tries to duck away from the bird.  His right arm has gone numb, and a stabbing pain shoots through his ribs every time he moves.  And he’s pretty sure his face is also bleeding.  000 is not okay.

Old Hala is going to be damn impressed dickbag Nanu managed to keep his promise and die far away from Ula’ula, at least.

His stupid cat is staring at him, unsure whether to go after the grunt (that is now running across the park) per initial orders or the bird actively attacking her trainer.  Frantic, he waves his left arm around in a vain attempt to point at the evil metal bird that is circling him for a second shot.  The arm waving is mostly in vain, since he can’t move with his left either without his ribs stabbing him.  He’d shoot the damn thing out of the sky at this point, laws and IP rules be damned, but he’s right handed and not worth a damn on switch.

His pistol is also in his suitcase back at the hotel and he can’t shoot for shit with his right hand either, but that’s all really beyond the point.

000 drops to the floor and tries to cover.  He’s got nothing else, he can’t fight a raptor made of steel.  Persian charges, but the cavalry arrives just in time.  “SUCKER PUNCH!”

A familiar croagunk smashes the damn bird out of the sky right as it makes a second pass for 000.  Persian finishes him off with night slash just as 100Kr catches up to his partner.  000 doesn’t give him time to blabber.  He jumps to his feet (and regrets it), and makes straight for the alley again, yanking his partner by the trenchcoat with his good arm.  Based on the scattering tourists and the sirens blazing a few blocks over, local PD will show up any minute.  The IP need to leave.

100kr and their respective pokemon follow, all a little concerned at the trail of blood he’s leaving behind him.   000 is going to make it out of the park without passing out.  100kr can force him to the hospital after that, but he’s going to at least walk (run) away from the scene for a change (especially after Mt. Moon… he owes his dignity this, even if the run kills him).  He’s tired of 100kr dragging his vaguely conscious body to safety every time he gets hurt.  Besides, if he passes out here, 100kr has permission to take over.  And he _will_ call for the IP to come get them.  000 realizes he should have stuffed the pager in his underwear.  It’s in his back pocket, which 100kr is likely to fish through if he's unconscious.

Kind of sucks 000 is going to be unconscious for that part.

_STOP, there are literally a MILLION other things to think about Nanu!_

000 can’t run much farther than the first turn into the alley maze anyway, and nearly collapses into a wall.  Everything hurts and he’s realistically sort of a wuss.  Something is cutting into his rib cage.  And he’s starting to get dizzy.

“What on this earth did you experience?!” 100kr pants as he and Croagunk catch up.  “I was able to knock out the camerupt and the trainer and then doubled back to the park!  I cannot have been separated from you for long!”

“Well, there’s one that’s probably dead and one who took the hell off to report this.  Oh, and like nine tourists who scattered,” 000 groans, clutching the wound on his side.  He’s bleeding from his ribs.  He’s bleeding out from his shoulder too but he doesn’t need to grab that to confirm.  Blood is dripping down his back and into his waistband.

000 is _so_ amazingly fired.  He’s going to be lucky if the international police even put him on a boat back to Alola.  He’s looking at jail time.

“Zeroes, you appear to be bleeding from everywhere,” 100kr points out with concern between gasps for breath. The smaller agent doesn’t make it easy to keep up with him, particularly when he’s nervous.  “For a moment you need to sit down, I’ll fix you back together.”

“I’m fine.  Let’s get out of here first” Granted, he can make that happen in seconds but as long as he holds their extraction pager he’s not hitting it.  If he presses that button the IP will do him in instead.  The pain isn’t important right now.  He’s been hurt worse before.  They both need to get the _fuck_ away from this park though and literally to anywhere else safe so he can't give 100kr a legitimate reason not to order an extraction.  The local hospital is allowed to patch him up.  That’s what fake insurance cards are for.

A sickening call echoes through the alleyway, and 000 can immediately tell they’re done for.  He’s heard it a million times before on Ula’ula, just before he’d wake up hours later without his wallet.  

He immediately retracts Persian, lest the get separated in what’s about to ensue.  She’ll be all right, realistically, but he’s about to not be and if he lives through this experience, he doesn’t want to search for her later.   IP won’t give him the time to, no doubt, when 100kr takes over and calls for an extraction.  He’ll be in jail and Persian will be stuck roaming around Lumiose City. She’s a great target for collectors, she looks too much like a shiny. She would leave him for a good trainer, even if she'd fuck up Team Rocket.

The call grows closer and closer.  100kr doesn’t seem as scared, stupidly enough.  He’s never had this personal of a run-in most likely. Last time for him was probably a trainer battle- nice and organized, with rules about attacking the trainers.  IP fights weren’t nearly as nice, with the gaping holes in 000 only a mild example of how rough Pokemon attacks could be.

“Dang,” 100kr mutters under his breath.  He’s still holding his pokeball, the other agent notices as the call gets louder.  They’re closing in, and 100kr is going to be a wreck if he loses Croagunk (and Croagunk is kind of helpless without 100kr… it won’t survive wandering the city like Persian would).

000 grabs his hand and forces him to click the return.  His croagunk disappears into his ball.

“What is it that you are doing now?!” 100kr’s brown eyes are the size of dinner plates.  His gaping stare clearly communicates that his partner must have lost a good deal of blood or his mind.  This night certainly has been a wild ride for him and if he didn’t have a million other things to worry about, 000 would explain himself.  Maybe.

“A favor, because we’re about to get fucked.”

Two hypno round each corner.  000’s been roughed up by enough Alolan street gangs to know he doesn’t really stand a chance. Hopefully he just gets to stay alive.  The blood loss and the impending Team Rocket agents aren’t giving him great odds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to squeeze out another chapter before the New Year, but irl shit just went belly-up so don't count on it.


	4. KsLuC-0957:3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which impromptu surgery, hand holding, and pants cookies all ruin 000's night (more).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Somebody gets some stitches

Through the dark, there’s a _thing_ touching 000 and 000 can’t decide if he’s comfortable with this feeling.  It pokes and pods.  Some moments he hardly notices it, but some moments 000 definitely _knows_ something dragging along his skin. He can’t put his finger on where that skin is, exactly, since his head is pretty fuzzy.  It’s just _on_ him, and the sensation moves around to other vague parts of him he can’t locate.  And everything is dark, he can’t be expected to feel his skin in the dark.  Just, the touching should probably stop.  000 doesn’t want anything touching him.

It’s not too bad, 000 concludes, even if he doesn’t want something touching him.  He can’t remember why he doesn’t want anything touching him at the moment anyway.  Whatever it is, it’s warm, while the rest of him is quite cold, and it doesn’t hur-

“SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!” 000 shoots up, fully awake.  A sharp pain rips through his side, as if it’s been torn open.  It’s probably been like this for hours actually- 000 doesn’t handle hypnosis well enough to notice pain until he wakes.  He can never recover properly (he can’t wake up properly from normal sleep either, but that’s a deeply different issue).  But 000 is definitely awake now and he definitely _hurts_.

A hand collides with the side of his face and shoves him back on the cold floor.  “Go back down, I’m still not done with fixing you,” 100kr informs him with a grunt, speaking as if his mouth is full, “I’m sorry, I think I may have prodded some sort of nerve on accident.”

Between the cold floor and the realization of who’s hands are on him, 000 tenses up automatically.  100kr has him pinned down at the face and at his thighs (probably with his knees, it feels like knees and 000 is now very very aware of everything in addition to the searing pain in his ribs).  It’s going to take a carton of smokes, three fifths of gin, and a cold shower for him to never think about this again.

“Yes, you hit a nerve, you ass,” 000 breaks his auto-freeze and attempts to squirm away before noticing, very poignantly, that the floor should not be this cold against his skin.  He stops moving. “Where the fuck is my shirt?”

“Over lying in the corner, but it’s more or less just a pile of ribbons now,” his partner informs him, mouth still full.  “You received fairly bad slashes, several of them and they are all full of gravel and claw pieces.”

Not that 000 didn’t want 100kr’s hands on him while he shows of all fourteen of his chest hairs, but between this and his night and the fact that he’s probably going to jail now, there’s too much emotional mixing for 000’s mind to process.  He flails and breaks from 100kr’s firm grip, now driven less by the pain of _whatever_ the fuck his partner is trying to do and more by the confusion of… _whatever_ the fuck his partner is trying to do.  “KR what the hell?!”  The pain shoots back through his side and through his shoulder.  He shouldn’t have moved.

100kr holds a pen flashlight gingerly between his teeth and a bloody pocket knife in his right hand.  If it isn’t for the fact that 000 is shirtless, 100kr just used that knife on his skin, and 000’s thoughts are bundled with too many conflicting emotions to piece together what in the name of Arceus, all four Tapus, and any other deity in existence, this moment would be vying with the strip club for ‘most hilarious picture of 100kr.’

He at least has the good sense to spit the flashlight out. “You have debris floating around you inside.  An effort was being made to retrieve them all before you awoke.”  Despite the figurative clusterfuck of tonight, 100kr remains remarkably ‘matter of fact’.  This is just a normal day for Agent 100kr- stripping down his partner and sticking him with a pocket knife in… a closet, full of boxes and wires and blinking LEDs. They’re in a freezing cold server closet.

“Oh,” 000 isn’t about to touch on literally everything wrong with this, “How long was I out for?”

“Forty-five minutes?” his partner looks at his watch, “An hour perhaps maybe?  I woke up a little time prior to when they dropped us in here.  I’m quite surprised awakening took you as long as it took you.”

“Oh,” that’s actually the fastest 000 has recovered from hypnosis and he’s not about to bring that fun fact up, “Probably passed out or something.”

“You snored the whole time.  Quite loudly in fact, you were very peacefully sleeping.”

“All right that’s enough,” His shoulder and side are still searing.  His hand only sort of has feeling, though more than it did in the park.  His side actually hurts far worse than it did in the park, though he has a sneaking suspicion that 100kr’s half-completed first aid has more to do with that then the initial attack.  He’s also _freezing_.  Whoever owns this room has had the AC running full blast, potentially all summer based on the temperature of the tile floor.  “How much you have left to do?”

“You knocked the packing out of your shoulder when you lunged a moment ago, so, all of it. Again.”

 _Fantastic, just fucking fantastic_ .  They’re trapped Tapu only knows where after fighting Team Rocket in this Tapu forsaken city they aren’t even supposed to be in, 000 is supposed to come up with a plan around all this, if he doesn’t they’ll both be going to _jail,_ and his injuries require prolonged physical contact with the mission partner he is under no circumstances supposed to be attracted to.

His side fucking _hurts_.  Whatever 100kr was up to did far more damage.

“And I need to remove the claw pieces.  They are razor sharp and you shall risk them cutting your organs when they embed within you,” 100kr says with concern as he reaches for 000, trying to make him lie back down.  He makes contact with 000’s shoulder and 000 tenses up again.  “More of your blood will be lost if that happens and you are already thinking not straight.”

000’s pretty sure that his inability to think clearly has less to do with blood loss and far more to do with _everything else_.  He can’t unfreeze himself as easily this time and 100kr pushes him to the floor.

Fuck it, he’s not going to fight this.  He’s going to let 100kr patch him up.  Then they’re getting out of here. Or he’s going to push the panic button.  He probably doesn’t even still have the extraction pager.  As 100Kr flips him on his side and pins him back down, he notices his pockets have been emptied.  Which means no smokes, no pokemon, and no pager to bring in an Kalos division extraction.  At least 100kr can’t force him to use it if Team Rocket has it. 000 doesn’t have the energy to overcome a scared 100kr and another round of dinner plate eye begging, dignity be damned.

“They took our shit, didn’t they?” He finally makes himself ask as 100kr inspects how much damage he did by jumping around.  100kr has one hand on 000’s hip, and one holding open the side slash.

The flashlight is definitely back in his mouth, “Mhmm.  Emptied both our pockets.  My coat was taken from me as well.  I don’t know what became of our things.”

“Where the hell did the flashlight come from?”

“Ah, I sewed it into the lining of my slacks not a few weeks before being dispatched for this mission.  Just for this very consideration!” he sounds _disturbingly_ pleased that his incredibly specific proactive behaviors have paid off, “I will write a full report on this practice for the newsletter next month.”

000 has never heard something so _him_ in the three years they’ve known each other.  He wants to laugh, but he’s more preoccupied with how 100kr’s left knee presses on his thigh as the man tries to keep his balance.  He’s crouched again, since his left shoe is basically jamming into 000’s back and his left knee is somewhere over 000’s mangled shoulder.  One inch? Maybe one and an eighth?  000 isn’t going to move again, he doesn’t have to be pinned down that securely.  “That’s where the pocket knife came from too?”

“Yes, and the sewing kit.”

Okay, 000 is drawing the line somewhere.  He’s not about to accept impromptu surgery from 100kr, even if he scored higher marks in medic training. “Fucking _no_ ,” he jolts up, instantly regretting it.  The pain surges, both from his side wound and from his shoulder slamming into 100kr’s knee.  000 falls immediately back over.

“With wounds this deep you require stitches. And please remain still, what condition do you think you would be in if I had my knife there?” 100kr chastises him as he pushes his head back into the floor.  His face appears to at least have scabbed over from where he hit the pavement, so that’s one less wound to worry about.  “You are not in any shape to be moving about right now, let alone evading Team Rocket and escaping this place.”

“Speed tape it,” 000 grumbles, trying to relax.  100kr’s left hand has moved from 000’s head back to around his ribs.

“I didn’t consider tape.  I’ll add it to the list for future development.”

“But you remembered a sewing kit?”

His right hand has been firmly planted on 000’s hip this entire time.  000 estimates there’s at least eight inches between 100kr’s face and his ribs, since he can’t feel his breath but his partner is literally crouching on top of him.  He wishes his brain wasn’t making all these calculations for him now.  At least _talking_ to 100kr takes his mind off how much he can’t handle this.  

“I do quite a bit of sewing work.” And at least 100kr can talk with something in his mouth.

Oh, how much 000 wishes that the next few thoughts relating to… _other_ things in 100kr’s mouth hadn’t popped into his head.   _What is wrong with my brain_?!  He tenses up again and his heart starts racing.  He needs to stay under control, even if his partner’s hand is on his hip and this is the best physical contact he’s going to have with another person for the next several weeks.  It's too late to hunt down that backpacker again, and realistically after this, 000 won't manage to get hard for anyone else for a  _while_.  Mt. Moon is a testament to that, since he theoretically had  _plenty_ of chances during his medical leave afterwards.

100kr notices immediately. “Was that painful!?” his tone is laden with concerns and apologies. “I’m sorry! I’m just trying to make sure you don’t contain more pieces than the ones I can see! I’m so sorry!”

“Yeah, that stung,” he lies.  His partner is actually pretty gentle, 000’s just being a gigantic _baby_ about all this, realistically, since he can’t handle thoughts and emotions at the same time.  This whole mess is a bad combination of both.

“Here, take my hand and squeeze it,” 100kr sticks his hand in 000’s field of vision, fingers outstretched, “I must pull these from you and you cannot flail during that.”

_Absolutely not._

“I’m fine,” 000 grunts.

“If you flail I will hurt you even worse or have them digging into you farther,” he insists, “That is not a scenario to be risked, I think.”

“Whatever.”  He doesn’t want to do this.  He already can’t think straight.  He’s definitely not going to be able to think straight if they hold hands, even if it’s for legitimate reasons, and he _needs_ to come up with some kind of plan moving forward.  

000 has never been one to let an opportunity pass him up, however.  He grabs his partner’s surprisingly warm hand and braces.  As soon as the first shard of claw comes out, 000 realizes that his partner wasn’t just being his usual overly-considerate self.  000 screams bloody murder.  He’s surprised he doesn’t break 100kr’s hand as he unintentionally squeezes the life out of it.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, that was a big one,” the other man apologizes, going for two.  Then three.  000 yells in pain every single time.  His hand clenches into around his partners.  Around the fourth one, 100kr squeezes back, his hand closing around 000’s, which distracts 000 for all of three seconds until the next shard comes out.  It stays like that for the next four.

100Kr is pretty warm.  000 likes that quality in a person.  Everywhere else is cold compared to Alola, especially this closet with the damn AC blasting.  Fucking power bill for this place must be through the roof.  If they can't bust Team Rocket in person, they can root through the local utility's records.

“Okay that was the last one,” his partner announces after nine total claw pieces are removed, breaking his grip.  He reaches for 000’s destroyed shirt to cover the wound and presses down to stop the bleeding.  “I hope anyway, I could only locate those by vision.  In an hour or two I can inspect again and we will determine if you’re bleeding internally from any additional.”

“I think I’ll live,” 000 wheezes, his hand still outstretched.  He’s glad that ended, but admittedly, a little upset his partner let go so quickly.   _Why the flying fuck did he do that?_ 000 thinks, though he can chock it up to 100kr being the most awkward person on the force.  This is the same person after all who always volunteered to substitute in the female spots during IP training’s etiquette classes, after all.  “I hope nobody heard that.”

“It is in an empty warehouse we are in, I’m sure of it,” 100kr shrugs, threading a needle with that appears to be fishing line, “Since they put us in here I haven’t heard a single soul, and there was no one around but the men who dragged us here earlier.  Okay, time to sew you back together now.”

Luckily, 100kr can sew faster than he can speak.  He patches up 000’s side in under two minutes, before 000 can really register that it hurts almost as badly as putting claws out.  He’s too distracted anyway.  He can still _feel_ his partner’s hand against his, like a phantom pain.

This has grown to  _fucking ridiculous_  levels of immature _,_  he decides as he sits up so 100kr can repack his shoulder with scraps from the inside of his shirt and bandage over it with 000’s demolished shirt.  They are fucking mission partners.  That is it.  Moreover, 000 is the mission leader and he realistically has no idea where he is and who knows he’s even here.  And he’s directly disobeying the procedures.  And they’ve broken more than a few local and international laws.  000 needs to _focus_ on the things that matter right now.  They're going to leave and he's come up with a plan to evade their impending dismissal and also bag Team Rocket, and this will all happen  _without_ thinking about how much 000 wants to bone his partner.

“All right, you are now fully repaired I believe,” 100kr announced, rather pleased with his sewing skills.  000 has more or less stopped bleeding.  “Your face scratches scabbed nicely and I don’t have any regular bandages, so we will have to leave those be for now.  I feel as if you’ll need triple antibiotic or something of the nature, but this will have to do for the moment.”

000 stands up to stretch and his head spins.  He’s lost a _good bit_ of blood over the last hour or two, and 000 is the sort that needs a lie down after a blood drive.  He nearly falls over, but his partner jumps up and catches him.  “Do not move so fast! You’re still recovering!”

“No shit,” 000 isn’t in the mood to be held up, not after the mental pep talk he _just_ gave himself.  He jerks out of 100kr’s grip and braces on the wall instead.

His partner sticks his hand down his pants leg, “Hang on, I might have a cracker or some cookies.”

“I am _not_ eating a pants cookie.” 000 can’t believe he even said that with a straight face.  “Just give me a minute.”

Sure enough, his partner procures a package of airline cookies from somewhere around his knees.   _What else in the Tapu’s name is he keeping in those?_ “You sure?  These tasted fairly good.”

A little bewildered, 000 snatches the pack from him.  Always take food when it’s offered.  He learned that over a decade ago doing the island challenge- it doesn't matter how many goddamn sour malasadas you already ate today, there's room for the one a grandmother at the Center shares with you.  Same idea.  He shivers visibly as he downs both the tiny gingersnapesque cookies in one bite.  This room is fucking freezing.

100kr also procures about six moist towelettes so he can get some of the residual dried blood off him.  In retrospect, 000 didn’t actually bleed out as much as he thought.  100kr attempts to help, which is met with another shove and some pouting on both their parts.  If 000 can’t draw the line at fishing line stitches, hand-holding, or pants cookies, it’s going to be at help washing up.

And if he’s going to get assistance bathing, 000 wants a proper bath and a naked partner, not moist fucking towelettes in a server closet.

_STOP._

He goes red as 100kr starts to unbutton his vest while that thought still floats around his mind.  There’s no way his partner heard that train of thought.  000 is positive he didn’t speak out loud, he never talks to himself.

100kr didn’t.  He’s just being considerate, again.  “Here, you can have my shirt.  I know you dislike these temperatures.”

“NO,” 000 blurts. First they hold hands, and now his partner is volunteering to get shirtless.  This has to be some kind of cruel joke or the IP is actually testing his sanity limits or something.  That _has_ to be the proper explanation.

“Well, at least take my vest.  It will at least keep the stitches covered.”

Begrudgingly, 000 takes what’s offered and slips his vest on.  It’s too big, but it hides both wounds.  Despite 000’s borderline useless nose, the material smells exactly like he expected- coffee, cheap costume makeup, and gunpowder.  If he had to nutshell 100kr into three concepts, that would be them.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he says, trying to shake those last thoughts out of his head, “Is that door reinforced or-”

“Oh the lock I picked open shortly after I heard everyone left.  We’re free to go, this warehouse sounds emptied at this hour.”

000 decides to save his questions about why they just did impromptu surgery with what’s probably fishing line in a server closet if that was the case.  Or why he could remember a lockpicking set but not tape.  Or why 100kr didn’t leave, try to find the extraction pager, and call Kalos branch for a pickup like he’s supposed to.

000 is starting to believe more and more that none of this is real and the IP is just testing him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to point out that holding a flashlight with your teeth while working is a pretty impressive skill. I've been a mechanic for two years and still haven't mastered it.
> 
> Also, anybody who has constructive criticism is more than welcome to air their opinions. Or less-than-constructive criticism. Won't hurt my feelings either way.


	5. KsLuC-0957:4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr finally recon something that will save their asses. Maybe. Also 000 can finally attempt to drown his feelings out in nicotine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: 000 is a broken stove. Also irresponsible consumption of unrefrigerated mayonnaise. Seriously guys, don't eat egg salad that's been sitting out all day.
> 
> Also some creative license with Team Rocket’s actual goals and activities, which I explained in the end note. Skip if if you don't feel like reading a giant wall of text detailing bad fan theory.

 

The server closet appears to be one of the few rooms in the entire warehouse, based on what 000 can tell from 100kr’s shitty flashlight. The building appears to be nothing but piles of boxes and rows of shelves (also covered with boxes), with a loading bay somewhere off to the side.  It’s pitch dark- the AC is probably sucking too much power bill to justify leaving lights on. It explains (slightly) why 100kr didn’t feel like leaving while 000 was hypno’d out earlier.  100kr gets weird about wandering around in the dark alone.

000 hopes to the Tapu that their things are still in the warehouse.  The odds are low, he knows, but Team Rocket clearly doesn’t have a solid base or reasonable backup here.  They did just throw two kidnapped IP agents in a  _ closet _ . Or they just realized how novice 100kr and 000 actually are.  Or they think 100kr and 000 are full of shit (best option).  In any case, hopefully they were dumb enough to mash the extraction pager, since that’s the  _ best  _ possible resolution 000 can bullshit his way through.  If he can talk 100kr into avoiding some of the details, they’ll just land a disciplinary hearing.  000 has a few under his belt already, he can handle another.

Persian he’s not as worried about as long as she busts out of her pokeball before the IP show up.  She’s prone to letting herself out anyway.  She’ll bite some grunts and then find him.  Croagunk probably not, but 000 will come up with a plan once she reappears.

“This is quite a large amount of shipments to be holding,” his partner notes, jolting the flashlight around just enough to prevent 000 from getting a good look.  000 wants to grab it from him, but he’s not in the mood for any more physical contact.  “Shall we inspect?”

“Might as well, it’s something to write home about,” 000 shrugs.  They’re already here, and they certainly wouldn’t find this place on their own.

100kr busts the nearest box open with his still-bloody pocket knife.  It’s filled with ultra balls.  The box label indicates their final destination is Sinnoh, which is entirely against the established import/export laws.  000  _ does _ have results after all.

“Let’s bust open a couple of these,” 000 says with a grin, tearing the label off to fax in with his daily field report.  He might still get his leadership competency with this.

100kr is already three steps ahead of him, as he would put it.  “Heavy balls,” he shines his flashlight on the guts of another box.  Then it’s quick claws, lax incense, hard stones, black glasses, power braces… all things on embargo lists  _ somewhere _ and definitely at least import restricted based on the shipping labels the two are pocketing.  They’ve hit the jackpot.  Team Rocket is funneling illegal sales through Lumiose City.

“You need .45 ammo? There’s a whole box of it here,” 000 notes, tearing into a box with what little fingernails he has.  Fuckall with leaving evidence, Team Rocket will know soon enough that they escaped.

“Oh but if only I could sneak that through the airport security,” 100kr bemoans.

“Sew it into your slacks,” 000 jokes, “Worked for pocket knives, apparently.”

“The last of my thread is preventing your ribs from falling out.”

‘Thread’... he means fishing line.  000 is almost 80% sure that 100kr sewed him back together with fishing line.  He repaired 000’s trousers once with fishing line anyway while they were mid-mission.  It seems like a 100kr thing to carry.

“Pinap berries,” 100kr informs him as another box is unceremoniously torn apart, “That’s an interesting choice.”

000 chuckles.   _ Of course _ 100kr can’t even venture a guess.  “If you boil those down with chesto berry juice and smoke the concentrate, you’ll speed for  _ days _ .”

His partner looks a little startled and flushes red, “Well, that explains those.  I certainly did not presume an outstanding agent such as yourself would possess knowledge within this realm.”

“Yeah there’s  _ nothing _ to do on Alol-” 000 suddenly hits the recon jackpot in his next box, cutting off his train of thought, “Give me your flashlight for a second,” 000 requests, “I found something good.”

100kr reaches over his head, shining the flashlight down on the logistics paperwork in 000’s hands.  Unlike the labels, which just have final destinations, this has an itemized list of goods from  _ several  _ boxes, along with all the destinations they’ve been sent through.

_ Half an inch. Shit’s gonna kill- _

“Mo-ther fu-cker,” 000 breathes, forgetting entirely about the proximity between himself and his partner for the first time all evening, “Are you reading this?”

“Quite an interesting development, this is for sure!”

“The Viridian City Gym,” 000 reads aloud, just to highlight how  _ fucking awesome he and 100kr are right now _ , “There’s Rocket activity in Viridian City still.”

Viridian City had been cleared  _ years  _ ago, before 000 and 100kr even showed up at Global.

“Look at the footnote there,” 100kr points out, jiggling the flashlight for the nth time, “‘ _ Boss, extra materials for the administrator meeting this week.  Sourced well…’ _ Do you think this boss could potentially be Giovanni?”

Okay, 100kr is getting carried a  _ little  _ away.  There’s no way Team Rocket is stupid enough to hold IP agents in a warehouse with any kind of paper trail to Giovanni.

“Eh, it could be anybody,” 000 shrugs, “Doesn’t matter though. Viridian is on the cleared list, and this shit implicates their gym leader.”

It doesn’t matter, because right now 000 has his speech to the Chief down.  ‘Yeah, we fucked some shit up, but check out what we faxed you!’  In his head, this speech also comes after writing an actual daily field report, which he already knows is unlikely in the back of his mind.

100kr stops looming for a moment and shines the flashlight randomly on boxes.  000 carefully folds the paper and considers putting it in his pocket, before he remembers his pockets magically turn into deathtraps for anything unfortunate enough to enter.  This needs to stay intact, unlike the considerably less detailed box labels.  He passes it off to 100kr instead.  “You keep this.”

“Of course,” he stashes it before nervously adding, “Do you perhaps think, now that we have tangible evidence of crimes occurring, that we could maybe begin the search for our belongings and our pokemon?”

_ Shit.  _  100kr is probably internally  _ panicking  _ about Croagunk.  He loves Croagunk more than his life.  Actually, it’s a little astounding 100kr didn’t try to retrieve Croagunk before 000 woke up.  He’s presumably been thinking about this the  _ entire  _ time, and deffered to 000 based on the “Team Lead” title on the paperwork. 100kr’s adherence to protocol will kill him one of these days.  

“Absolutely.”

The more 100kr frantically waves his flashlight around, desperate for a hint of  _ something  _ in the sea of boxes and shelves, the worse 000 feels about pushing “retrieve pokemon” to the bottom of the to-do list.  To be fair, Persian is fine without him.  000 just enjoys her company and would appreciate more of it.  Croagunk is actually helpless without 100kr.  100kr  _ hatched _ the damn thing.  Croagunk can’t survive long without someone to open cans of food and everyone is  _ well  _ aware of this.  000 owes the man a few hours of searching.  He took them both up shit creek without a paddle, and 000 would be realistically be dead in the park without him.

“International Police?  _ Really? _ ” A voice breaks out with the sound of a door opening far beyond their vision.

100kr clicks the flashlight off immediately.  He and 000 duck for cover between boxes in shelves.  Somewhere on the far side of the warehouse, a dim light turns on.

The voices echo through the empty void.  “I mean, it’s what they said.”

None are speaking Kalosian- it’s Kanton standard, although accented.

“And one had a gun,” a third voice contributes.

From ten feet away, 000 can feel 100kr glaring at him.  Per protocol, 000 is  _ supposed  _ to have a firearm as well, but it’s in his hotel room for several reasons, starting with bullet count reports and not being able to shoot for shit, and ending in serious intentions to see that girl from the other night.  The only thing that would kill a boner faster than the girl discovering a surprise .22 on his hip is the phantom sensation of 100kr fucking touching him earlier.  Hookup is out of the question tonight anyway.

100kr wouldn’t bat an eye if a hookup suddenly stopped so 000 could disarm himself.

Actually, 000 probably needs to give 100kr the pre-makeout weapon pat down.  He’d be apt to forget there’s a loaded and ready .45 tucked into his waistband, and the Tapu knows what’s in his pockets.

Actually, 000 should  _ fucking focus _ and stop thinking about feeling up his partner.

“So they’re either random IP agents,” the voice is female, 000 can tell that much, “Or they’re one of the dozen Team Rocket copycats popping up in Kalos and they’re trying to start some sort of idiotic turf war with us.  Given what we paid down that gym leader with to keep the IP out of Lumiose-”

Double good luck, 000 grins.  The Chief can throw  _ that _ in her tender and suck on their protocol deviation.  It’s just words, which isn’t much evidence wise, but words might be enough to warrant further investigation.

“-I have a pretty strong feeling it’s the latter.”

“I’m just saying what happened.”

“I know, but you’re an idiot.  And I’d be willing to bet the gun’s a toy too.”

“You go look at it.”

“Where’d you leave it?”

“Over by the server closet, where we left them.  You can go interrogate them too if you want.”

They’re  _ idiots _ , 000 realizes.  They walked  _ right past  _ their shit.

“Fuck it,” the light shuts off, “I’m not walking back there, especially if one is dead already.  This place gives me the creeps at night.  They’ll be there in the morning and the other one will be scarred enough to say something useful.”

“I’m just saying Boss, we can settle this here and now.”

“We’re not doing shit.  It can wai-” A door slams shut.  000 and 100kr are left in silence and darkness.

“I do not know if our fortune right now is the result of karma for the less-than-ideal parts of this evening,” 100kr says with a click of his flashlight as soon as he’s sure the coast is clear, “Or if luck will now elude us for the rest of our lives.”

000 puts a hand to his lips.  In case they didn’t all leave, 100kr’s motormouth isn’t about to ruin the only fortunate part of the night .  He’s also not in the mood for chastisement over the lack of firearm, which will be next out of 100kr’s mouth inevitably.

XxXxXxXx

All of their belongings are in a box back by the server room, including their pokemon, 100kr’s gun, and any cash between them.  Hell, they didn’t even take 000’s smokes or his lighter.  They’re clearly well supplied here, since 000 has never passed up a stray lighter.  The two silently decide not to question this and make their way to the street.  Luckily, most of the doors open from the inside.

Hopefully the cameras are either total crap or not attached to anything, since neither have made any effort to conceal themselves and 000 doesn’t notice them until he hits the street.  Just to be on the safe side, he shuffles 100kr a few blocks up the road before they release their pokemon and speak again.  Persian licks 000’s knees as Croagunk jumps into 100kr’s arms.  100kr babbles to him in a language 000 doesn’t know while patting him on the head, both their grins ear to ear.  000 feels  _ really  _ guilty he didn’t put retrieve pokemon earlier on the list.  Persian licks 100kr’s knees as well, though it’s most likely because she can smell the cookies from earlier.

“No food girl, you have to catch it yourself,” 000 shrugs as she looks at him wide-eyed, “I know, we’re having a shit night too.”

“Wait, I may just still have a sandwich from earlier if those criminals did not think to steal from my coat,” 100kr digs through a trenchcoat pocket, “Will Persian eat egg salad?”

“Persian eats anything.”   _ The Tapu only knows, her diet is about half cheese-puff. _

000 lights a cigarette while 100kr unwraps the mildly-squished egg salad sandwich.  000 probably should be concerned about the mayo, but realistically, the damn cat will just puke it up on his bed later if it’s bad.  000 isn’t in the mood to worry about random puke.  He’s more worried about the fact that it’s 0330 and they have no earthly idea where they are in relation to the hotel.

And that there might be Rocket Grunts wandering around, but he cares about that a good deal less now that Persian is around.

And that he can still feel 100kr’s hands on him, but he should start caring about that a lot less now that he has cigarettes and they’re one step closer to the gin in his hotel room mini fridge.  It might even stop his shoulder from stinging.

“You should not be smoking, you know,” 100kr scolds him as he throws the other sandwich half at Persian and puts Croagunk, sandwich half already consumed, back on the ground.

“Right now, or in general?” He tilts his head back and blows a stream of smoke into the air.  They’ve had this conversation too many times for him to really give a rat’s ass about 100kr’s opinions.  100kr’s first words to 000  _ ever  _ involved quitting smoking.  Then he took to occasionally fake coughing when 000 lights up and hasn’t exactly ceased the habit.  Too bad 000 hasn’t had a cigarette in  _ hours _ and 100kr can’t stop him now, of all times.  The memory of 100kr’s hand on his had been saving him from the withdrawal pangs earlier, and he is decidedly done rethinking that experience.  His only replacement is the searing pain down his right side.  He’s not interested in paying attention to that.

“In general, however right now it’s particularly pertinent as you have sustained major injuries and you are most likely extremely dehydrated.  The only thing I have seen you drink today is a beer at lunch and a beer at dinner and a beer at the club.  That is not enough water to also be smoking a cigarette.”

That’s not even counting the fifth of gin he’s shot in total at the hotel.  That sounds like a  _ lot  _ when he thinks over it, 000 needs to watch his drinking.  The IP is littered with alcoholics and he didn’t particularly intend to become one, not at twenty-six in any case.

“You have a juice box stuffed down your pants by any chance?” 000 asks sarcastically, not about to put out his cigarette.  He’ll find a vending machine  _ eventually _ .

100kr flushes red before quietly saying, “Not anymore, I drank it before I met with you in the park.”

The guardian damn it, 000 could have really had a juice box. 

000 kind of wants an itemized list of pants contents now because juice boxes will be a bit of an obstacle if he ever gets the chance to feel 100kr up.  Fruit punch is not the sort of sticky 000 wants to deal with.

The mental image is unceremoniously drowned out with a second cigarette, lit off the smoldering butt of the first.  “We are still near Lumiose, right?”

“I thought so, as we were not hypnotized for particularly long.  Well, I was not hypnotized for particularly long,” 100kr rests his hands on his chin, trying to think, “Your Lumiose map, are you still carrying it?”

“You really think I wouldn’t have it out if I was?” 000 points out, trying to mentally calculate the time zone difference for when they need to fax the report by.  Five hours, conservative estimate.  Probably six or seven given the number of fucks the Chief gives for them on an average day.  At least they have results to go with their clusterfuck of a night, that’s the important part.

“A fact worth asking for, as I stopped carrying mine several weeks ago.”

“Well shit,” 000 glances around, trying to place street signs or building names with locations he can remember from the map.  Nothing appears familiar.  There’s just warehouses and manufacturing plants in this part of the city… if they are even in the city anymore.  He’s never been great with directions anyway, though he’s better than 100kr.  Last time 000 let his partner hold the map, they ended up ten miles west of the rendezvous point, lost in a cave, and the senior agents were so pissed they didn’t retrieve the two until morning.

Well, the second to last time.  Mt. Moon doesn’t officially count for  _ anything _ .

“Maybe if we head up the stre-” 100kr stops suddenly, “Wait, that sound is running water.  This is the way!”  He takes off up the street, scooping Croagunk off the ground as he does.

000 makes a lame attempt to stop 100kr from running off into the night, since he can’t hear any Tapu damned water, but he doesn’t have any ideas either.   _ A _ direction is better than no direction. They can’t just hang around a Rocket warehouse until dawn.

“The river,” 100kr pants as 000 and Persian catch up to him, “I can hear the river.”

Indeed, they stumble upon the river a nearly a mile up the road.  000 makes a note to get his hearing checked.  He had no idea until they hit two or three blocks away.  

Speaking of miles, 100kr has trouble running one.  Sprints are one thing, this is distance.  100kr is out of breath and nearly drops Croagunk when they finally see the bridge.  “Lumiose City will be in this direction,” he points downstream, doubled over and trying to breathe.

000 really needs to drag him to the gym.  He  _ isn’t  _ out of breath and he still has a (dead) cigarette hanging from his lips.  Granted, 000 wasn’t trying to carry fifty pounds of pokemon.

“Okay then,” 000 turns on his heels.  Executive decision, they take the opposite.  From experience, 100kr is definitely pointing in the wrong fucking direction.  

“I am NOT turned around” pant “even if I usually am!” pant “The city” pant “is this” pant “way!  I have stood in this particular” pant “spot before” pant “in my life!” 100kr grabs 000 by the wrist and drags him downstream.

Aaaand more touching. Fantastic, exactly what 000 wanted.

100kr actually has a pretty firm grip.

Dirty thought noted. Time for a third cigarette.

100kr must know what he’s talking about this time, because Croagunk gives 000 a less than gentle shove.  Persian lazes behind the three as 100kr furiously half-drags his partner through the dirt.

“Okay okay, we’re going this way,” 000 jerks his hand out of 100kr’s grip, “I believe you.”

There’s not going to be any more touching tonight.  000 is far, far too tired to handle it.  That run took a lot out of him, his side hurts like a bitch, and it’s later than 000 has been up in a while.  If 100kr grabs him one more him he’s getting jumped.

000 can’t decide if it’ll be a good kind of jump or a bad kind.

Time for a another cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explanation on the h/c Team Rocket stuff going on, also a whole lot of fic lore y’all don’t give a shit about but I’m going to explain anyway. I hate to throw a bunch of pokemon conspiracy fan theories in a fic everybody is probably reading for the pairing, but I’m using pieces of it in this story and I may use more pieces, so I’ll put it in the notes…
> 
> After the Great War (I’m a huge Pokemon Great War theory fan), all the regions set up really strict embargoes and doubled down on how much travel could occur between regions. Certain regions only get certain items, and there’s a MASSIVE restriction on what pokemon you can carry between regions if they let you travel between them at all. The games basically take place as regions repair relations with each other (well… mainly with Kanto, since in this version Kanto is like the world power super region of the bunch) and embargoes get lifted, which is why there’s both new and old shit in each gen.
> 
> Team Rocket were the original blockade runners- they moved everything illegal between regions and sold it so less-than-law-abiding trainers could get an advantage on each other. Would be kind of nice to be holding a mind plate when your opponent is in a region where held items are against the rules of trainer battles, right? How about a pokemon nobody knows the type of, so they’ll have to guess to get a type advantage? This is how they wound up as the “big bad” of Pokemon, even though arguably every other evil team after them (with the exception of Skull…) is considerably scarier imo.
> 
> The International Police were basically created to be a single body that could go between every region and maintain order with respect to each country’s laws. While the regions didn’t like each other, they recognized they needed a way to cooperate in order to stop Team Rocket. Hence, one multinational superpolice organization.
> 
> Anyway I realize nobody cares about this, but I’m debating on writing a few more stories in this series after this and I’ll probably use more from this.


	6. KsLuC-0957:5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the author prepares to duck eggs for resorting to an overused and cliched plot device to move things back where they were supposed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: I’m personally embarrassed I went here, especially after several people commented about how much they were enjoying this little saga. Sorry everybody. Nobody is more disappointed in me than me.

Prism Tower is visible past the treeline once they clear the first bend in the river.  100kr actually isn’t turned around for a change.  Persian and Croagunk both give up walking about five minutes in, Persian because she’s lazy and Croagunk because his legs are short.  They reball and continue down the path parallel to the bank in silence, minus some fake coughs from 100kr for 000’s chain smoking.  000 doesn’t want to hear it.  He’s tired.

Granted, he’s also too tired to tell 100kr to knock it the fuck off and need to formulate his speech to the Chief in his head.  They shouldn’t be dismissed, they’ve found evidence Viridian City is _way_ off the cleared list.  That _should_ make up for all the protocol breaking.  Hopefully.  If the Chief is in a good mood.  000 probably should put this in a phone call instead of the daily field report (granted, she’s inevitably going to call anyway after tonight).

Eventually, 000 spots the fluorescent beacon of a subway stop and abruptly b-lines for it, nearly forgetting to tell 100kr in the process.  The greater Lumiose City subway is 24-hour.  They can catch a ride back into town.

000 can also grab a drink from the vending machine on the platform.  He feeds it all the cash he has on hand, resulting in four boxes of juice, two bottles of water, and a chocolate bar for 100kr.  He’s not hungry, but 100kr tries to feed half to him anyway as they wait for the train.  They’re at the last stop.  It’s a miracle the train comes as quickly as it does.

“How’d you know to go downstream?” 000 asks, lounging between two seats as the train starts.  The seats are fucking freezing.  Kalos collectively needs to turn down the AC.  100kr’s vest isn’t exactly the parka requisite for these climate control settings.

100kr sits neatly in the seat next to him, despite the fact that the entire train is empty.  They’ve got over an hour on the commuter set, they _could_ spread out. “As I said when you clearly did not listen, I have been alongside this very portion of the river previously.  What a stroke of fortune for us.”

000 wants to point out that he _did_ listen and he wanted an elaboration on _when_ and _why_ , but there’s no chance of that sounding nicer than completely pissed off.  He’s too tired to argue with 100kr over shit that doesn’t matter.  He barely wants to argue over shit that does matter.

“Gotcha,” he settles for.

“Thank you for the refreshments,” 100kr adds, sucking the last of his juice box dry. 000 makes a mental note as he shuts his eyes to never give 100kr anything with a straw ever again.  A large chunk of his brain really enjoyed watching that, and he’s _really sad_ if watching 100kr drink juice is enough to turn him on these days.

“No problem.” _Anything for you, my dear._ “Fuckit, too cold.”

He stands back up.  The seats are freezing and the vest only barely works as a shirt.  100kr silently slips his coat off his shoulders, as if moving automatically, and hands it to him.  000 usually protests the 100kr coat.  It’s too big for him, since it’s too big for 100kr.  And there’s just something _wrong_ about borrowing his trenchcoat, like 000 is being handed an open invitation to invade his partner’s privacy.

Okay, there’s something _hot as hell_ about borrowing 100kr’s trenchcoat, and 000 just hates thinking about it, if he has to be honest.  He’s not in the mood to be honest with himself but it keeps happening anyway, like with the damn juice box.

000 isn’t one to let an opportunity pass by.  Besides, he decides as he plops it over his shoulders and plops back down, it’s not any worse than the fact he can still feel 100kr’s hand against his.

XxXxXxXxXx

Eventually 100kr shakes 000 back awake.

“We here?” 000 grumbles as he lifts his head up, blinking to adjust to the light.  He’s been asleep on 100kr’s shoulder… probably for the last hour.   _Fuck.  Whatever._  He’s too tired to undo that.  Plus, he always falls asleep on 100kr’s shoulder.  It’s the story of every car and plane ride they’ve ever taken.   _Nothing weird about it._

“Appears to be so,” 100kr responds, standing up and stretching.  He nearly falls over when the subway car grinds to a stop.

000 checks his watch as they shuffle out to the platform: 0520, making it 1520 Kanto time.  He’s tired, the sun is going to rise soon, the Chief expects the daily field report by 1700, and he wants none of this nonsense.  The stairs are at the far end of the empty platform.  Fucking fantastic, more walking.  At least there’s no commuter traffic yet (actually, what day is it? There may not be commuter traffic at all, but 000 can’t remember if it’s Thursday or Friday anymore).

He lights a cigarette as they trudge along, despite the rules about smoking on subway platforms.  He needs it to stay awake.  Part of him feels guilty because he has 100kr’s coat on and it’s about to reek of smoke, but most of him ignores it in favor of not wanting to deal with tonight anymore.

100kr threatens to cough over the cigarette as they reach the stairs. Probably his way of reminding 000 he isn’t supposed to smoke in the station either and another train has arrived that may potentially have passengers.  000 wants none of it.  He hears the start of a cough and turns to stare 100kr down when he notices the other agent stopped, listening with his head cocked and his hand to his chin.  Somewhere above of them, in the station, there’s people arguing loudly in Kalosian.

Without warning, 100kr’s eyes widen and slams 000 against a vending machine.  The shoulder wound rips pain through his back.  “What the-”

100kr’s hand clamps down over 000’s mouth. 000 freezes.  Shoulder pain is no longer important.   _WHAT THE FUCK_ is the only thought he can process, screaming in his head in rapid succession.  His partner isn’t even looking at him, he’s staring at the staircase with his eyes wide in fear.  The voices echo louder.  000 can’t force himself to squirm free and demand a clear explanation.  Then suddenly, 100kr flips the collar on the trenchcoat up, nearly yanks it straight over 000’s head, and pins the smaller agent to the machine with his forearms.  His mouth slams into 000’s.  

000’s brain _short circuits._  This isn’t real. There’s no way this is real, he’s still asleep in the train.  This isn’t happening.  He’s asleep on the train.  He’s about to open his eyes and wake up to 100kr missing the station and they’ll have to walk an hour back to the hotel and this is not real and it’s not definitely happening.  000 refuses to believe it’s real, but he keeps his eyes shut anyway and opens his mouth and-

And it’s not real.  100kr doesn’t have his mouth open.  He’s just moving his freaking face and smashing their lips together as if they’re actually making out for _the Tapu only knows what fucking reason_. This is actually the single most disappointing moment in 000’s life, and he’s about to lunge and strange 100kr in cold blood over it when he finally notices the voices on the platform growing rapidly closer.

Someone yells something at them in Kalosian as feet zoom past, trying to catch the train.   000 can’t see, dumbass has him literally swimming in trenchcoat- 100kr is basically trying to pull the damn thing straight over his head. He’s going to kick 100kr in the nuts as soon as these fucks catch the train and 100kr is going to limp back to the hotel if 000 allows him to live at all.   The passersby make it with a cheer as the train doors close and it departs.  100kr drops his grip on 000, staring nervously at the departing train as if that _didn’t just happen._

000 shoves his partner as hard as he can, catching him off balance. 100kr falls to the platform.  “What the _ACTUAL FUCK_?” he shouts, restraining himself from lunging and beating the tar his partner, shoulder be damned.

100kr flushes brilliantly red and babbles, arms flailing about as he jumps back to standing. “LO SIENTO JOESONGHAMNIDA PARDON PROSTITE MENYA _I’M SORRY!”_

That’s the longest it’s ever taken 100kr to land the correct language and 000 temporarily forgets he’s about to kill him.

“I heard the voices of the people who originally brought us to the warehouse earlier up ahead and there’s no reasonable place to hide on this platform and I’m sorry this was the only thing I could think of to perhaps have them catch the train without noticing us!  Upstairs before they were yelling about traveling back to the warehouse because someone escaped!  They have been alerted to the fact we are gone!  And there’s no cover on this platform but benches and vending machines! I’m sorry!”

Actually, there is seriously nowhere to hide.  Maybe they could have crouched behind the vending machine? Not inconspicuously and not in time to avoid them.  “Who were they?”

100kr looks about ready to either cry or hyperventilate.  “Those were the grunts that took us to the warehouse!  You were unconscious, but I recognized the voices and they were discussing us and our escape and returning to the warehouse to commence a search! I thought maybe this would not look so suspicious if I could pull the coat over you and maybe they would believe I’m just another brown haired person on a date and perhaps they would be preoccupied enough to pay us no mind!  I promise I’m sorry!  In a short time that was the only reasonable evasion I could think of! I’m sorry! Forgive me!”

That explains why 100kr tried to pull the trenchcoat over his head.  000’s hair is a little bright silver, he sticks out like a sore thumb.  100kr, however, looks like any generic brown haired man at first glance, if you aren’t 000 and haven’t spent hours studying him.  While that kind of maneuver tends to work better with hoods and not oversized collars, and 100kr didn’t have to _ACTUALLY_ kiss him, and 000 is a _little_ more than angry that wasn’t real, that actually wasn’t the worst evasion tactic given the lack of available cover.  000 vaguely remembers a note or two about it in a training class.

000 refuses to be anything besides critical about this though.  He can’t bring himself to admit that it was a reasonable idea. “You didn’t have to actually kiss me!”

They legitimately did not need to be close enough to require 000 drowning in gin later just to forget the sensation.

“You would have yelled at me!  And that would have driven their attention to us!  I’m sorry!”

_Fair._

_Point._

If 000 doesn’t forgive him right now, 100kr will stand around babbling for the next hour.  000 _very much_ wants to go to his bed, especially now that he ghost of 100kr’s mouth is burning against his and his shoulder pain somehow threatens to overtake it.  That isn’t fair.  He’s never going to get over this, not as long as they’re in Lumiose, and not as long as they still work together.  There’s not enough liquor in the world to make this _OK_.  “It’s alright, KR.  I get it.”

100kr is actually the one that doesn’t get it, but that’s beyond the point entirely.  000 kind of just wants to fade into the floor, for the first time since teenage.  Of all the stupid distraction tactics and evasive maneuvers 100kr could have pulled, it had to be _that_ \- the _one_ thing 000 has wanted from him this entire trip.

“I’m sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it.” 000 realizes he sounds pissed.  He doesn’t have the energy to sound OK.

“I’m sorry.”

000 rolls his eyes and stamps out his smoldering cigarette.  He dropped it about and around the time 100kr threw his hands over his mouth. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

They climb out of the station and drag themselves towards the hotel, saying nothing.   _Thirty-six inches._  100kr keeps rubbing his mouth and spitting.  000 just drags on another cigarette and blows smoke above them, ignoring his shoulder wound in favor of the remembering how 100kr’s mouth feels.

He wishes there were better options for him right now.

“You taste as you’ve been eating from an ashtray, you know,” 100kr finally says with disapproval.  000 suddenly no longer cares that his trenchcoat will smell like smoke for a few days.

“Hm, wonder why,” 000 answers sarcastically, though he discretely licks his bottom lip.  Mint toothpaste and coffee.   “Could have been the cigarette that was in my mouth when you did that.”

“Perhaps you should think about quitting.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t kiss me as a distraction if the taste is going to bother you,” he shoots back, fuming.

100kr stares at the ground, his face red again.  “I’m sorry.”

Cue the 100kr sad dinner plate teary eyes, his worst weapon.  100kr doesn’t even realize to what extent 000 is defenseless when his partner goes ‘sad eye’ on him.   Once, at training, 000 walked twenty minutes in the snow to find a giant bag of candy canes after 100kr went ‘sad eyes’ over his other bag mysteriously disappearing.   And 000 doesn’t do snow.  “It’s alright.  I said that already.  It actually wasn’t the worst idea you could have had,” 000 lies, before adding with a snark, “Guess you missed the last sexual harassment training everybody got.”

100kr goes white, “No, that day I was in Fuchsia City.  What was discussed?”

“Basically... don’t do that.”  In all honesty, five slides were dedicated to not using sexual situations as mission procedures.  It stepped on a surprising amount of toes.

“I’m sorry!  I’m sorry!” his partner blurts, “I really didn’t know and I absolutely would not have-”

“It’s _all right_.  I’m not going to report you for saving us.” Granted at this point, 000 wishes they just had a shootout with the grunts.  He’d feel better about a bullet to the shoulder.

This is all bullshit.  000 has never been so happy to see the hotel and climb the _ridiculous_ amount of stairs to their floor.  They’re both staying on the sixth floor of an absolutely _ancient_ building and 000 has been sick of the stairs since the two arrived.  Logistics is on some kind of boutique hotels kick.  Not a single hotel 000 has stayed in this year has had an elevator. It’s a miracle this one even has electricity.  

The two mutter goodnights at each other and separate to their respective sides of the hallway.  000 flops onto the bed immediately, wounds be damned, and lets Persian out.  She seems to notice his mood, since she licks the side of his head before lazing on the pillows.  000 can’t forget the feeling of his partner, and unfortunately _this_ has to coincide with _knowing_ that kiss was just to lose a few grunts.  Phantom pain on his hands, on his hips, on his mouth, and if he ignores it, he gets to remember the gaping hole in his shoulder and the fishing line holding his ribs in.   _Fuck this._

What’s worse is that he needs to be thinking about how he’s phrasing this all to the Chief- particularly the part where 100kr blew their cover in the alley and they proceeded to engaged in a very public fight in a no-go zone instead of calling headquarters, and then somehow overshadow that all with evidence of embargo oversight at the Viridian City gym.  Typically 000 just writes “See 100kr’s report” and faxes that in if they’re together. Everyone knows 100kr’s report is accurate and they realistically did the _exactly same fucking thing_ so there’s no point on writing it a second time.  100kr isn’t great with persuasive writing though, and they need a good bit of persuasion to not be dismissed.

First he’s going to smoke on this though, he decides as he takes a swig out of the gin bottle.  Well, actually first he should change out of 100kr’s vest and coat.  He does actually feel a bit guilty about the cig smell, but this night has sucked and 000 will pay for a dry cleaner when they get back.  100kr knows this.  000 paid for dry cleaning the last two times he vomited on 100kr’s coat, anyway.

That’s if he isn’t dismissed first.

Actually if he’s going to change anyway, 000 decides he’s going to shower. He takes another swig from the gin bottle and takes the longest, coldest shower he can possibly stomach.  Unfortunately, ‘longest’ here means about two minutes, and then he’s just overexcited and a little drunk and starting to turn blue.  He takes another swig from the gin bottle on the way out to return 100kr’s clothes, before remembering he needs to repack his shoulder with actual gauze and not shirt clippings.  Then he checks his stitches, and then he can’t think of anything else to procrastinate with as the sun starts to rise.  000 needs to finish his report.

First he needs ideas to start the report. 100kr’s room is at the opposite end of the hall.  He opens on the first knock, per usual.  He must sit _underneath_ the door, 000 always thinks, because 000 rarely manages more than one knock.

“Hm?” he gestures for 000 to come in, his other odd quirk.  Their conversations could be held in the hallway usually, but he always invites 000 in.  He’s done this since training.

Granted, it’s nearly six in the morning and 000 is 60% sure it’s a Saturday, so it’s _probably_ rude to have a conversation in the hallway this time.

“Here’s your vest and your coat,” 000 says, trying to decide where exactly his partner wants these.  As he learned in training, 100kr doesn’t just throw his things everywhere like 000 does.

“Just hang them up on the hook if you don’t mind,” 100kr says as he sits back at the desk.  A stack of paper is neatly underneath the lamp.  “Or I can take care of it later.  I just need to sign this here, and then you can have it to make a copy of.”

000 might still be angry about the kiss in the alley, but he has to admit, 100kr is his savior.  He didn’t want to think up a report tonight, he can use pieces from 100kr’s.  “My hero,” he sits down at the edge of the bed after he hangs up the coat and the vest, avoiding the sleeping croagunk.  Sixteen inches from 100kr.  Maybe.

“How does your shoulder feel?  I realize I must have knocked it badly… I’m sorry, I was truely careless.”

“It’s fine,” 000 shrugs.  He’s honestly been ignoring it in favor of focusing on his mouth and his hand and everywhere else 100kr has made contact in the last twelve hours.  If 100kr wants to talk about careless, they can start there.

“You should not be drinking alcohol for that.  I sincerely hope you’ve had at least three glasses of water as well, and for the pain I can administer you an ibuprofen instead if you are out.”

100kr can smell the booze on him.  Fantastic.  His partner probably thinks he’s a mess.

“I’ll be fine,” 000 mumbles, grabbing his shoulder.  Ibuprofen won’t fix the _massive_ amount of physical contact between himself and 100kr, but liquor might.  Speaking of which, he needs to know _exactly_ what 100kr put in the report regarding the subway platform, since he’s not about to let the man elaborate on the issue.  There’s enough jokes about them floating around Global already.  “What did you put about the subway in your report?”

100kr flushes bright red and doesn’t make eye contact as he answers.  “Er, I made the assumption it would be best if maybe I... _neglected_ to mention anything about it.  In the end there was no real incident, so I don’t feel as if headquarters needs to know of it?  If it’s alright with you, of course, since as team lead you have the right to-”

He’s going to babble.  “Nah, that’s good.  I didn’t want to talk about it either.”

100kr forces a weak smile, “Here, this is what I have written.  Could you send it over the fax to headquarters for me perhaps? My shipping labels and the paperwork are with it as well.”

“Yeah,” 000 grabs it and flips through it.  It’s somehow almost 4 pages, front and back.  He’ll never understand how 100kr writes so fast, so neatly.  His handwriting looks like type and 000’s looks like a toddler with a crayon, and yet 100kr still writes faster than he does.  “Looks good to me.”

“Thank you, team lead.”

“Stuff it. Also remind me and I’ll get your shit dry cleaned when we get home.”

“Thanks, though you really should stop smoking,” 100kr chastises him.

000 rolls his eyes.  “It’s not as easy as you think.  And I’m fine with ‘tasting like an ashtray.’”  He tries to mimic 100kr’s voice, but it goes flat.

100kr looks away again, “I’m sorry.”

“I said it was all right, dumbass.”

His partner doesn’t respond to this for nearly a minute, until he finally asks, “But I don’t understand.  Why did you lick my teeth?”

000 can feel himself going bright red.  He funnels it into anger, despite legitimately wishing to fall over dead from the aneurysm he undoubtedly has now.  He does _not_ want to know how long 100kr has been sitting on that question.  “We were kissing!” 000 points out, “You’re _supposed_ to open your mouth!”

100kr visibly sinks into his chair, staring at the wall.  “Oh.”

“By the Tapu, you’re a terrible kisser,”  Okay, that was mean, a little uncalled for, and entirely 000’s nervous reaction. He shouldn’t have blurted that.

100kr frowns, crossing his arms but still not making eye contact with 000.  “Well, I’d expect as much as I’ve never engaged in anything of that nature before.”

_Whoa wait what?_

All 000 can feel is an enormous pang of pity for the man.  100kr might be younger than him, but he’s still twenty.  000 has his first kiss long before that age.  First kiss at twenty, with his mission partner, to avoid hostiles on a work assignment… there really isn’t a worse way to live.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize that,” 000 admits apologetically.  He needs to control his mouth. “I’m actually sorry.  It’s not that easy, I shouldn’t make fun of you for it.”

“You should not,” 100kr grumbles.

“Don’t get upset.” The Tapu knows, 000 can’t handle a round of dinner plate sad eyes right now. “I take it back.”

“You do not.”

“I take back the part where I was mean about it,” 000 hops off the bed.  He can’t handle this.  He needs to write his report and sleep before the chief inevitably calls them in the morning over how much they fucked up tonight.  And prior to that, he needs to figure out exactly how he’ll talk the Chief out of firing him, which keeps slipping his mind entirely in favor of remembering fucking kissing 100kr.  “Sorry.  Maybe I’ll teach you sometime,” he adds on the way out.  He nearly hits himself as he says it.  They call 100kr ‘Motormouth’... 000 has even less vocal control.

He doesn’t stick around for 100kr’s reaction to that comment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, sorry I went there. Please keep reading, my new year’s resolution is to be less shitty of a storyteller, I swear. Tl;dr, minor-but-actually-major details needed to change in part 3 but I still needed to keep some key points in for later, and Mob Psycho has me too distraught to come up with something better (not really because I wrote this before the MP100 update... but I'm blaming everything this week on the MP100 update and after this I'm going to lay on the floor and cry).
> 
> And in my defense, evasive maneuver kiss is something Looker would probably do. Questionable judgement is more or less his MO- he’s hired exactly HOW many 12 year olds to do his dirty work over the last decade? I get that he’s scarred irreparably and probably too scared to do his own work after UB-05, but jfc get an adult at least. He’s got every gym leader to choose from (unless the established battle leagues don’t like the IP for some strange reason… anybody else notice that cloning and playing around with pokemon genetics is somehow OK again in SuMo… and the IP works rather closely with the Aether Foundation… heh). /attempttoconverteveryoneinto'theIParethebigevil'conspirators


	7. KsLuC-0957:6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the mission objective changes dramatically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: The Chief’s mouth is worse than 000’s. Also 000 and 100kr have not gotten an appropriate amount of rest per OSHA guidelines. 4 hours of quality sleep at the bare minimum everybody.

“Um, Zeroes… the Chief is on the phone.”

000 has never leapt out of bed so quickly.  He nearly punches 100kr straight in the face as he shoots upright, not entirely conscious and in control over his actions.  He reacts  _ fast  _ when he’s woken up.  Often it’s to the detriment of everyone around him- he’s even popped Persian in the nose a few times.  100kr thankfully dodges and immediately attempts to shake him awake.

More touching.  While 000’s in his bed.  Exactly what he needed to start the day right.  “The fuck is going on?!”

“The Chief is on the phone.”

_ What fucking time is it anyway? _  “Why is the Chief calling you?”  The clock reads 0800 in a painful shade of neon.  An hour- 000 has an hour of sleep behind him, since he couldn’t force the fucking fax machine in the hotel’s business center to work until seven.  Great.  This is exactly how he wanted to deal with the Chief. 

“I think you may have mixed up the phone numbers on your arrival report…” the blood has drained from 100kr’s face and his hands shake uncontrollably, “But you really need to come to my room because at this moment she is quite unquestionably angry with both of us.”

“Let me put pants on, I’ll be there in a second,” 000 rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the morning.  He hates waking up.  He’s always groggy until his third or fourth cup of coffee.

100kr yanks him out of bed by his undershirt.  He knows better than to expect 000 to stay awake if he walks away.  They’ve been down this path before.  000 stands stupidly next to the bed, rubbing his eyes more, while 100kr struggles to procure a pair of slacks from the pile of assorted clothing spilling out of the Paniola Town duffle bag laying on the dresser.  It’s actually Old Hala’s duffle bag, since 000 never owned luggage in his life and was  _ not  _ about to pay the prices the Hau’oli City mall demanded.

For the Tapu only knows what reason, 100kr is  _ fully dressed _ \- slacks, shirt, tie, blazer.  His poofy cowlic has even seen at least one attempt at combing (000 has watched 100kr try to tame that cowlic… it takes about five tries and some hair gel)- as if they hadn’t just spent all night galavanting around greater Lumiose City.   _ How _ he’s so awake on no sleep, 000 cannot begin to fathom.  100kr usually sleeps like he’s comatose and he doesn’t really wake up even when he’s up and walking and getting on with his morning.  A miracle has clearly occurred or the Chief is just  _ that _ motivating when she’s mad.

000 probably should give a shit that he’s standing around in his boxers, but his partner at least appears to be  making every effort not to look at 000’s pasty as fuck legs right now.  100kr throws a pair of slacks blindly at his partner, missing 000 entirely and landing them on the desk lamp.  As soon as 000 announces he’s decent, 100kr shuffles him down the hallway so he can deal with their boss, who is not-so-patiently waiting on the other end of the phone line.  If anyone has a shorter patience in this world than 000, it’s the Chief.

“Okay, I have retrieved Zeroes, Chief” 100kr says as he clicks the speakerphone on.  He sits 000 down in the chair and gently smacks him in the back of the head to make sure he stays awake, since 000 threatens to nod back off.  Croagunk is already bumbling around and rubs the spot 100kr just smacked, giving his trainer the look of disapproval.  At least Croagunk appreciates 000.  Granted, it’s likely because 000 will toss him cheesepuffs when 100kr isn’t looking.

000 wishes he had coffee.  He shouldn’t have to do work related anything before coffee.  “Hi boss.”

She’s hardly in the mood for smalltalk.  “So glad you could join us Zeroes.  Now, if you can, tell me in your own words why I put out a dumpster fire this afternoon over _two International Police agents discharging a firearm and engaging in a pokemon battle in the middle of Lumiose City_?  Because Kalos branch is a _little FUCKING FURIOUS_ with Global right now! Not to mention _Lumiose City PD!_ And since you couldn’t be bothered to write a field report last night, I felt like it would be best to _discuss_ this in _PERSON_!”

000 has never, ever, been phased by yelling.  He’s just even less motivated to deal with this call now.

“KR had it all in his report, I don’t see why you want to read through my shit handwriting about it,” 000 grumbles.   He may or may not have had the patience to copy 100kr’s report a few hours ago and he may or may not have just sent in another “see 100kr’s report”.  He was tired.  And his life was fucked.  And there’s no point in writing the same fucking thing twice.  The Chief would threaten to dismiss him either way, 000 just mistakenly assumed he had another few hours for sleep before the inevitable call over it.  He can at least say he read 100kr’s report today, which is more than he’s done this entire mission.

“That’s a little beyond the fucking point.  The fucking point is, you’re  _ lead  _ on this mission, and you’ve somehow managed to fuck it up above and beyond what I expected you to be capable of!” she shouts from her office, somewhere on a 40th floor in Saffron City.

_ Ouch. _

“Kalos branch is on  _ FIRE _ right now, because there’s not supposed to be IP agents  _ within the city limits! _ ”

“Why does Kalos branch even give a shit?” Caring about Kalos branch is about at the level of caring about Lumiose City PD, for all the influence they actually have.  They certainly couldn’t bust Team Rocket.  And while he’s out of protocol, yes, so is literally the rest of this damned city and he brought her the proof it’s  _ that bad _ .

100kr’s eyes go huge and his hands shake.  000 needs to stop running his mouth lest his partner have a panic attack.  He can’t handle a 100kr panic attack.  He also can’t handle this conversation without a cup of coffee.

“Because, for your information Zeroes, the only thing saving the two of you from  _ assassination  _ right now is the fact that I’ve convinced everyone that  _ Kalos branch  _ has two rogue agents that are clearly causing trouble.  And that our two agents  _ on vacation  _ in Lumiose City checked in appropriately last night.  And it was no small task to forge all that paperwork to save your asses!”

“Good job on the forgeries, Mitch,” 000 chuckles.  Mitch the nickname for the chief’s secretary, who’s technical code name is MC822 or something.  000 can never remember.  He’s kind of a weasel and he’s almost assuredly listening in on this call.

“Zeroes, take this seriously!” the chief barks.

100kr desperately nods in agreement.

“I get that I fucked up, I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.  Our lead led us  _ straight  _ to Team Rocket and it was too much for us to handle,” 000 admits.  He really needs to be persuasive right now, but he can’t remember anything he planned out.  He can barely remember  _ if _ he planned anything out before he fell asleep.  The Tapu damnit  _ all _ .  

“You should have hit the extraction pager.”

“We got a little kidnapped.”

“You shouldn’t have gone chasing Team Rocket in the first place!”

“Would you have actually accepted me just telling you we saw folks in Team Rocket uniforms?  You denied approval for me to expense a camera four times now, so we didn’t have a better option if you wanted actual recon.”  He fabricated a reasonable explanation last night before he fell asleep.  It had something to do with protecting 100kr from… something.  He can’t remember, he fell asleep to the thought of whatever scenario it was.  

Fuckall.  This is Tapu Bulu’s revenge for the time 000 definitely didn’t accidentally burn down the Po Town Pokemart, isn’t it?

Suddenly the background noise cuts out, a sign the chief has muted her phone to scream curses that Central technically won’t let her direct at the two agents.

“000, please don’t anger her,” 100kr pleads.  He’s  _ terrified  _ of the Chief, and he’s a little  _ more  _ than terrified of 000’s behavior around the Chief.  

He needs to be less freaked out, 000 wants to say.  000 is the one getting fired for this.  He also needs to learn that just because one line goes mute doesn’t mean both lines have gone mute.  The Chief can still hear him, and he sounds like a bit of a pansy.

000 keeps his opinions to himself, for a change of pace.  100kr is already upset and 000 already feels guilty enough over it.  Or at least, he would feel guilty enough over it if he has coffee.  He’ll feel  _ exceptionally  _ guilty once this call ends and he can accomplish that part of his morning.

“Okay,” the Chief says firmly when she returns on the line, “Here’s the deal, Zeroes.  And Motormouth, since you are now authorized to override leadership as you see fit.”

_ Bitch. _

“We have  _ maybe _ a week before Kalos branch goes through their fucking little investigation and determines there’s  _ no rogue Kalos branch agents _ .  Which is when this fuckfest will be dumped back in  _ our lap _ and we will be forced to  _ assassinate _ some rogue Global agents.”

That’s a little extreme.  Also not even remotely likely.  She’s full of shit, 000 can tell by that comment.   000 has taken a glance at all the paperwork involved just for civilian assassinations.  The Chief won’t fill out more on behalf of 000 and 100kr, she doesn’t want to deal with them that much.  There’s no concern with Lumiose City anymore, Kalos Branch already handled it, and now it’s all just a snafu that will lower her bonus this quarter.  She only throws assassination threats around if her bonus is on the table.

This is bullshit and they don’t need to be on this call anymore.  All they need are whatever new mission objectives she cooked up, preferably over fax.  000’s has two years of field agent work under his belt, he knows when the Chief is mad about changing the mission objectives.

He glances over at 100kr to mouth something to the effects of ‘bullshit’, but the man just scowls at him.  He’ll have a speech for 000 later about mouthing off to the Chief, undoubtedly.  He hasn’t picked up yet on the Chief’s idiosyncrasies, despite being a global agent for the same length of time and generally having a better attention to detail than 000.

“In that time frame you have two fucking options.  You can either hit the extraction pager and come home, to which you both will find _ no fucking job  _ and whatever charges we can put Zeroes up for, OR you can deliver me some conclusive fucking proof that there’s Team Rocket activity in Lumiose City.”

He’s already  _ done  _ that.  “We sent you those shipping papers with the mission reports.”

“ _ Report _ .  Not reports.  And while I appreciate you dropping something  _ fucking tangible _ in our laps for a change, that paperwork is hardly proof to anything in Lumiose City besides some disregard for embargoes.  A thousand of those cross my desk  _ every fucking week _ .”

_ Seriously _ ?  _ FUCK.   _ His entire plan for ‘not getting dismissed’ sort of hinged on the recovered shipping papers.  He, admittedly, has absolute diddly-fucking-squat otherwise.  Great. 

000  _ really  _ shouldn’t have mouthed off for most of this call already, but that’s not about to stop now.  They’re already fucked, and 000 can’t stand being yelled at.  It’s a natural reaction.  “Doesn’t mean anything that we saw  _ Team Rocket in uniform _ ?”

“Not when the person reporting it has two years experience and THREE FUCKING DISCIPLINARY HEARINGS UNDER HIS BELT.”

Okay she didn’t need to say that out loud.  100kr didn’t actually know about that third hearing.  The other agent cocks his head sideways and mouths “ _ really? _ ”

000 waves it off.  Mt. Moon doesn’t count for anything.

He’s going to talk their way out of this one if it kills him.  He really should have written that report though, he realizes the longer the call goes on.  At the very least, it might have bought him another hour or two of sleep and some time to think this through.  “Well then approve me to expense a camera.  I mean,  _ something _ is going to the Viridian City gym so it’s not like we can’t get you evidence.”

“Yes, and I’m  _ so very  _ looking forward to fucking dealing with it,” the chief’s tone is laced with sarcasm, “Since anything gym related requires the Indigo Elite  _ fucking _ Four’s gold seal of approval.”

“Sorry, but it is an interesting development.  So what do you want, a Team Rocket admin in your lap?” he suggests snidely.

“Fucking ideally, I’ll consider that the appropriate compensation for this fucking mess.”

_ Seriously.  She’s not being serious, is she? _

000 can do a lot of things vaguely with the realm of IP Global field agenting.  Kidnapping is not one of them.  He should have started off with a more persuasive angle.  They have good evidence already, no need for the Chief to get carried away! They’re novice agents, they can’t kidnap anybody on their own!  The Chief knows this!  Hell, 100kr hasn’t even tagged along on a kidnapping mission!

_ Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.  _

100kr somehow speaks up before 000 can process his thoughts into words.  “Um, ma’am, with all due respect, that is a rather hefty assignment-”

“AND YOU TWO HAVE DONE A RATHER HEFTY JOB FUCKING UP OUR KALOS OPERATIONS _ COMPLETELY _ !” the chief is screaming, “NOW FIGURE OUT WHO IS RUNNING THE OPERATION IN LUMIOSE CITY AND GET THEM INTO CUSTODY.  YOU HAVE  _ FIVE DAYS _ TO UNFUCK THIS!”

“Whoa whoa whoa, slow down.  We don’t have a dossier file on admins or anything,” 000 points out.  He’s not about to accept the short end of this stick, even if he’s so far on the short end already he’s hanging off it by his fingertips for what dear sweet life he cares about.  “You told us to do recon, you didn’t give us any better information than that!”

The phone mutes again.

“Don’t look at me like that KR.  You know I’m right on  _ that _ at least.”

100kr gives him a nervous shrug.

“Okay Zeroes,” the chief sighs when she returns to the line, “Our admin dossier is  _ huge _ .  Is there  _ any way  _ you could narrow it down to as much as a  _ vague  _ description before we send you information?!  Or is that asking too much out of you two  _ clowns _ ?!”

000 is way ahead of her on this one.  “It’s a woman.  Not Kalosian, Kanton, or Alolan.”  It has to be the woman they heard the warehouse the other night.  She had the keys to the main office and came by after hours.

The chief is speechless for a second.  She clearly didn’t expect them to be that competent. “That… that actually narrows it down quite a bit.  Blonde, brunette…”

“I don’t have that much for you.”

“Fine,” she groans.  “That’s still a reasonable fax size.  Go stand by, I’ll have Mitch send you that over within the hour.”

“Hoennese,” 100kr speaks up after thinking on it, hand on his chin, “I believe she is Hoennese.”  100kr might not speak one language well, but he speaks bits of  _ every _ language and can at least recognize the different accents better than 000 can.

“Well, that’ll narrow it down to two, so if it’s neither of those call me later and we’ll discuss it again,” the chief suddenly sounds less angry.  Well, less angry with the agents’ fuckups anyway and more angry about the fact they’re more competent than she’s ever given them credit for.

000 high fives his partner.  Thank the Tapu for 100kr, once again to his rescue.  Even if he thinks fake kissing is  _ ever _ a good idea and even if he’s slowly torturing 000 without even  _ a hint _ of noticing an issue.

And even if they now need to pull a Tapu damned miracle out of their asses.

“Can you fax us any strategies on bagging this bitch?” 000 might as well go for broke, things aren’t about to get any shittier.

The Chief sighs into the phone with exasperation.  “I don’t know, have Motormouth seduce her or something.  He’s cute.”

MC822 cuts into the line, finally revealing that he has, once again, been eavesdropping on the call.  “Ma’am, we can’t actually say things like that anymore.  New sexual harassment training.”

“Fuck.  I forgot that fucking training. Zeroes and Motormouth, I didn’t say that.”

“Didn’t hear a thing,” 000 rolls his eyes.  Now he has to come up with a plan to catch an admin who is probably considerably guarded and well-armed.  With no useful recon besides what’s already in the IP files.  On an hour of sleep.  In a week.  After 100kr faked kissed him on a subway platform.  000 might as well hit the extraction pager now and at least go back to Alola alive.

100kr clams up at the ‘sexual harassment’ comment, clearly remembering last night’s incident, and starts stuttering incoherently. 

The Chief catches it immediately,  “Motormouth, you _ aren’t  _ about to report that,  _ are you _ ?”

000 knows the Chief would like 100kr more often if he followed less rules.  This is one of those moments she  _ does not _ like him, but she doesn’t realize why he’s blubbering incoherently a little right now.  That was omitted from their daily field report.

“He hasn’t had sexual harassment training.”

“Well good.   You can’t report sexual harassment if you haven’t gone to the training.  Now, go find me a fucking Rocket admin!  You have five days!”

She hangs up unceremoniously.

000 does  _ not  _ have a plan for this.  For once, he admits he shouldn’t have run his mouth and he probably should have written up a daily field report instead.   This  _ might  _ actually 100% on 000, and he  _ might have  _ just dragged 100kr in with him.  They  _ might  _ actually be fucked.

And not in any way 000 wants to be fucked on a mission.

_ SHUT UP BRAIN! _

100kr  _ panics _ .  “The International Police will about to be dismissing us both from our service!”

000 needs coffee before anything else, actually.  There should be laws around forcing him to deal with both work and 100kr panic attacks before coffee.  “KR.”

“We shall be unceremoniously forced to leave our jobs and I will have to apply for a new job and…”

“KR.”

“I’ve never attended university for studies as I joined the international police too young so I won’t even be able to find a reasonable new job aside from maybe as a waiter…”

“KR!”

“And I’m so clumsy I could never become even remotely proficient at trades-”

“AGENT ONE-HUNDRED-KR CALM THE  _ FUCK _ DOWN,” 000 booms, channeling his inner ‘pissed-off-Ula’ula-cop-about-to-low-speed-chase-a-cocky-ass-trial-captain-across-Route-12’, “I am  _ NOT _ going to let anything happen to you!”

100kr freezes and sits down on the bed, brown eyes locked and dinner-plated on 000.  Croagunk rubs his head less than helpfully, successfully ruining whatever attempt he’d made at combing earlier.

“For one, the chief hates  _ me _ .   _ I’m _ going to be the one that’s dismissed for this.  Or imprisoned.  Or whatever.  She clearly assumes you’re... collateral damage.” Which, come to think of it, isn’t exactly true.  100kr revealed their status as IP agents.  Why 000 is taking all the shit for this, he’ll never know.  “For two, I’m going to figure this out.”

000 always does.

Except for Mt. Moon, but Mt. Moon doesn’t count.

“Now, wait here and do whatever to calm down.”  Usually he eats a bag of chocolates and then falls asleep, but 000 isn’t certain he has any chocolate…. Well, it’s 100kr, there’s a candy bar stashed around here somewhere.  “I’ma find us some coffee and wait for Mitch to fax this shit.  And then we’ll come up with something.  We can’t do  _ shit  _ until we have that fax.”

100kr nods silently, patting Croagunk back almost automatically. 

“I’m  _ not _ going to get you dismissed.” Actually he says that to reassure himself, not 100kr, but the point remains.  000 stands up, stretches, before remembering a point from earlier, “Also, how the fuck did you get into my room earlier?”

100kr flushes red, staring at his shoes.  “I picked the lock.”  Croagunk returns the head pat, as if to reassure him that it had been the correct course of action.

_ Not sure what I expected actually.  He can’t do that on a night we don’t have work? _

000 just shakes the thought his head and makes for the door, lest the urge to pat 100kr himself overcomes him.  It has to be the eyes. 

000 actually has no earthly idea of a plan and he’s scared  _ shitless _ .  He can’t recall ever being scared this shitless in his life.  He has to stop twice in the stairs  just to breathe, since now that he’s alone and he doesn’t have to stop KR from spiraling into word salad, his nerves have a full grip over him. They can’t bag a Rocket Admin.  They don’t have any backup or related experience to speak of.  000 went on  _ one  _ kidnapping mission, when he first started, and it proved to be a spectacular disaster on all accounts.  He certainly can’t do this with only 100kr.  There’s no way this can end in anything but their untimely fucking deaths, and he should just accept the penalties and hit the extraction pager  _ right now _ .

Except that he can’t really do that to 100kr, even if it is unlikely that the Chief will fire him too.  The man would  _ never _ forgive him.  000 can’t handle even the idea of 100kr  _ actually  _ mad at him, instead of just occasionally a little frustrated.

He’s team lead, he needs to come up with a plan.  He steered 100kr into this mess (000 is  _ not  _ taking all the credit for the fucking up, 100kr did a lot of fucking up himself), and he’s going to get 100kr out of this mess.  Plus if he doesn’t, 000’s ass will be either in jail or on a flight back to Alola, and both those situations will make pining over 100kr all the more difficult.  That shouldn’t be his main motivating factor right now, but it’s doing a remarkable job of merging all his thought patterns.

_ Live another few months with the lovely slim hope that you’ll finally hook up with your partner, Nanu. You’re a champ! _

He has no idea what to do.  But he’s going to come up with a plan once the fax comes in and there’s no point in worrying before that fax.  000 reminds himself of this aloud and picks himself off the third landing he had to sit down on.  He brushes his mouth with his thumb as he hikes down the final flight of stairs.  Now that he’s calm, the night before lingers on his mind and the phantom “pain” is back.

100kr will taste like coffee again in about twenty minutes.  Except 000 will never know for certain, especially if he doesn’t bag a Rocket admin and winds up back in Alola forever.

_ Fuckall Nanu, put it out of your fucking mind.  Shit counts right now. _

000 grabs two cups of coffee from the café downstairs (his about half cream and sugar and half actual coffee, 100kr’s black) and buys 100kr a pastry before he heads to the fax in the business lounge.  The damn thing is already buzzing and spitting out files… MC822 really needs to learn how to  _ fucking wait _ for confirmation before doing that shit.  000 gets his ass reamed for compromising missions and divulging IP presence, and yet MC822 can apparently fax classified documents into unknown space with abandon.  000 is a  _ little  _ more than pissed at the hypocrisy flying around their organization.

Looking over the paperwork whilst on his morning cigarette break in the courtyard,  000 realizes the two set themselves up in a better position that he assumed.  For one, he has an ID on their admin, for sure.  He’s seen one of the women before, in Lumiose City.  For two, the Chief included written approval to expense a camera, so even if they don’t capture her, 000 can snap a picture to prove his words.  The chief is all talk.  A few pictures will probably suffice and at least allow them to avoid dismissal.  There’s better agents in IP Global to handle kidnapping someone  _ this _ high profile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> But actually though Nanu probably intentionally listed Looker’s number so he’d have a buffer for the Chief.
> 
> Also H/C- Nanu has amassed a lot of random touristy shit that he’s either gotten for free or from bargain sales. As someone who currently lives in a tourist town, I can confirm it just fucking happens.
> 
> Last chapter for at the very least a week, unless I can pull some magic out of my ass. Realistic estimate, it may be more like two or three weeks, but once I can post again it’ll (hopefully) be more frequent updates until this is done. My job haphazardly zigzags between “fuckall to do, watch movies” and “y’all all get asses to elbows”, so I try to write as much as possible when it’s the former. Just got the heads up I’m getting steamrollered with the latter for a bit.


	8. KsLuC-0957:7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which reasonable plans for unreasonable objectives are concocted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: This is filler, so it’s realistically like not even getting an update. 000 is still chain smoking. He’s also slightly intoxicated.

“I am sorry but I truly cannot recall seeing her,” 100kr stares at the picture of their target, "Administrator Cyndi", from the edge of 000's bed while 000 sits on the windowsill and smokes.

000 opted for his room, since he’s going to need an entire carton of cigarettes for this plan and 100kr would _flip_ if he tried that in his room.  Now that he’s on his second cup of coffee, the phantom pain on his mouth has reappeared back with vengeance.  For that matter, so has the violent pain in his shoulder, which he apparently drank off successfully before his hour of sleep.  On a more positive note, 000 doesn’t have a hangover because realistically he’s only been drinking for four hours.  Now he’s just a little tipsy, nearly out of gin, and irritated.

“She’s at the strip club.  I stuffed sixty in her thong last night.” Why a Rocket admin is moonlighting as a stripper, he can’t even venture to guess, but 100kr loves to sew when he can afford his own clothing. To each their own bizarre hobbies.  Props to her because 100kr sure as hell doesn’t make any money for his.  “I’m sure that’s her.”

“I believe you, I just do not believe that I could quickly distinguisher her from… the rest of the lovely dancer women,” he tries to phrase it in the least awkward way possible and fails spectacularly,  “I don’t think a solely a picture of her will suffice in that regard.  Especially if she is dressed like a dancer or wearing nothing in this picture, instead of being dressed like a Rocket Admin.”

000 pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance.  He doesn’t want to argue this, he hasn’t had enough sleep to argue this.  He wants 100kr to leave him alone so he can take another cold shower, drink the remaining gin, and then think about this, since he’s already put off by the fact that 100kr forcibly tried to check 000's injuries a minute ago.  000 _flipped_ and shoved him away, but all that accomplished was mildly upsetting his partner.  100kr still checked his stitches.

There’s a _huge_ difference between a picture of a Rocket admin and an actual amin, though.  One is reasonably feasible and 000 can call it a job done.  One is a suicide mission.

“You realize what you’re suggesting, right?” 000 points out, “We can get a picture and get out without losing our lives.”

“The mission objectives state to capture and deliver a Team Rocket administrator,” 100kr disagrees, crossing his arms, “And the Chief has threatened to dismiss me and jail you.”

“I can survive in jail, I know how to suck a dude off.” The quip comes out automatically and 000 wants to shove his tie in his mouth almost as soon as it rolls off his tongue. The wise words Old Hala left him with at his going away party echo in his mind: ‘ _Whenever you open your mouth Nanu, take care to put your foot in it first.’_  Granted, Hala had been referring to 000 giving the old lady from the grocery store a hug on the grounds that ‘she’ll be dead by the time I come back here, might as well’ and certainly not how 000 is humiliating himself to the object of his affections right now.  The moral still holds water.

Whatever, 100kr would probably scream so loud he’d disturb the rest of the hotel visitors anyway.  The walls are kind of shit in this building and 000 has a few _particular_ skills he prides himself on.

_The Tapu damn it all, this isn’t helping anything!_

100kr blushes deep enough for both of them.  He takes a deep swig of his coffee before reminding 000, “I would strongly prefer that we complied with the designated mission objectives.  This mission has been too much of a failure until this point.”

000 groans.  He did promise 100kr earlier that he everything would be okay.  100kr’s version of ‘okay’ doesn’t include chatting with 000 on the other side of a glass pane.  Even if 100kr doesn’t return his affections, 000 knows his partner would still visit any prison he's rotting in.  

“I hope you realize your adherence to protocol will eventually get you killed,” 000 snorts, blowing smoke out the window.

“It’s an honor to die in the line of duty.”

_Not at 20, you fuck.  You’re just a lunchtime memorial service and a break room cake at 20._

“Whatever,” 000 stares idly out the window, at the view of Prism Tower past the roofs of the surrounding buildings.   It's actually a little irritating that logistics picked the only building for several blocks that has more than three stories, the more 000 thinks on it.  Half of these shorter buildings are probably also hotels.  Sixth floor with no elevator is just cruel.

Admin Cyndi is _definitely_ the stripper from the other night, so at least 000 knows where to find her.  Capturing her… that’s going to be a different story.  His only capture mission ended in bruises and broken bones, and that was with senior agents involved.  They probably ought to capture her alive to boot, since they don’t have operational rights in Lumiose City.  The two of them will wind up hanging out in prison until the IP can bail them out if they just drop her corpse off at a police station.  The Chief hates him, they could rot there for months.  And 000 feels like he’s not going to live through shanking whatever inmate forces 100kr to suck him off.

At the very least, the two need to make a legitimate inspection of the Pink Ponyta. 000 had been a bit more focused on getting 100kr out of the building last night.  “How fast can you throw a costume together?” 000 asks, formulating tonight's plan in his head.

100kr turns bright red and scowls.  “I am NOT disguising myself as an exotic dancer!”

“Not as a fucking stripper, you idiot!”

Granted 000 would love to see that much of him.  He rarely sees the man in less than a suit and slacks.  T-shirts are comparatively a treat.

000 shakes both thoughts out of his head, takes the last drag he’ll get on this cigarette, and tosses it in the alley below before continuing, “Bouncers.  Dress like bouncers, sneak backstage, get a feel for what we’ll need to take out the admin.  That’s tonight’s plan.”

They certainly won’t be kidnapping her straight from the stage.  000 may admittedly be several of types of stupid, but not that stupid.  However, if 100kr really wants to pull off this ridiculous objective, the club will be a much easier battleground.  The warehouse is full of contraband battle-enhancing items, weapons, and Rocket Grunts.  The strip club is full of strippers.  Once the two agents scope out the exits, hiding spots, escape routes, things like that, 000 can string together a capture plan.  

Maybe.  In all seriousness, 000’s still plans to snap a picture, send that to the Chief, and see if they can head home with a disciplinary hearing.  100kr can suck up a round of disciplinary.

“So you intend for us to return to the club?” 100kr clarifies nervously, biting his lip.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.” The Tapu knows, 100kr is a bit useless in a strip club.  While 000 partially feels like he should suffer over the kiss last night, since it’s still reeling in his mind, the man has his own special way of becoming one giant distraction when he’s unhappy.  Perhaps 000 can make more informed decisions without constantly feeling guilty about at least _one_ thing.  Recon is easy enough for him to do without backup.

“I will not desert you while you pursue an objective,” 100kr straightens his tie, “We are members of the International Police, we follow missions through even when they are difficult.  And perhaps in a distasteful setting.”

“I’m going to need you to look at the _women_ tonight, KR,” 000 reminds him, lighting another cigarette and taking a sip from the coffee he may or may not have spiked.  He needs alcohol in his system.  His shoulder stings, his mouth stings, his hand stings, and tonight he has to babysit his partner through a house of exotic dancing for a wholly impossible objective lest they wind up dismissed.

“I believe I shall be capable of handling this unsavory task if I continue to remind myself that this is entirely a work related venture,” his partner responds, patting Croagunk automatically.  Croagunk had been playing ‘hide the kibble’ with Persian, and swiftly loses upon looking comfortingly up at his trainer.  Persian promptly knocks the poor bastard straight over for the piece of dry food under his foot.

“Persian, be nice,” 000 snaps.  It’s almost embarrassing how little the cat listens to him.  Hell, Croagunk listens to 000 more than Persian does.  “Yeah, watch some pornography or something beforehand and then make a call on that.  I think we have pay-per-view here.”

000 is trying to use his sarcasm voice, but given the alcohol and the lack of sleep, he just sounds pissed.

“A-absolutely not!” 100kr goes red, “Unless that is a joke…”

“It wasn’t entirely a joke,” 000 shrugs, staring back out the window, “I’m worried about taking you back there.”

His partner scowls and crosses his arms, spilling a few drops of coffee from his cup as he does so, “This is a bit of an unfair judgement considering the manner by which y _ou_ deviated from protocol several times last night.  Aside from the report I am _required_ to compose per job description, I have not so much as _attempted_ to discuss this matter with you.”

“ _You_ kissed me to dodge hostiles,” 000 reminds him in irritation.  They can have a long talk about protocol deviation and the IP's new sexual harassment policy if he wants it.

Actually, 000 doesn't want to do that.  Fraternization with another agent is definitely thrown in that policy, since HR couldn't find a better place to discuss the matter.  100kr will inevitably panic about what counts as fraternization until he hyperventilates.  And last he heard, the penalty for physical relations, even consensual, with a coworker had been dismissal.  Someone at Central realized that the rule was utterly psychotic and being ignored entirely, and threw an update in the new sexual harassment policies- since the rewrite, it's a branch transfer (which is not much better).

000 realistically prefers that his partner forget the rule exists, for more reasons than the rather ironic fact that 100kr is currently the one afoul of it.

_Actually you don’t care, because that isn’t going to happen anyway and you’re going to focus on the mission now._

100kr only scowls further, “You’ve brought this misstep up and expressed your displeasure with it several times, yes.”

“Well, if you have an issue with my ‘protocol deviations’, you can take over,” 000 pulls the extraction pager from his pocket and tosses it to his partner.  It can be his responsibility for a change of pace, “Page us out, dear leader.”

100kr catches it one-handed and stares down at it briefly. “You have not presented me with any reason not to trust your leadership,” he decides aloud, though 000 can’t tell who the thought is directed at, “Despite your shortcomings, you have always had a reasonable plan.  As such, this is not a responsibility I will assume at this moment.”

He tosses the pager on the bed.

“KR, you _just_ complained about last night’s shitshow,” 000 reminds him, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He can't tell if he's starting his hangover or if 100kr's illogic is giving him a headache.  Either way, he probably needs to drink a glass of water next.

And by the Tapu, who the flying fuck in their sane mind still has faith in him?! Persian probably doesn’t even have faith in him right now.  000 certainly doesn’t have any faith in his ability to capture a Rocket admin, at least (snapping a picture and talking the Chief into accepting it is a different matter entirely- he has plenty of faith in his ability to manage a minimum line).

“I complained about your unwillingness to discuss your shortcomings as compared to mine,” he clarifies, sipping his coffee, somehow content with his change in opinion. "This is a different complaint."

“I fucked up, you fucked up, I get it,” 000 grumbles, realizing the point is partner is trying to make and probably can’t translate in his head.  Forget it, he’ll be going to the Pink Ponyta himself and just not tell 100kr when he leaves, “There’s no point in either of us discussing this.  Tonight we’re going to both dress up as bouncers, scope out the strip club, and unfuck this shit.”

“I agree, glad we can concur on something,” 100kr smiles.  He probably couldn’t translate all that in his head.  He tends to go circular logic when he can’t translate.  By the Tapu, if 000 even got the chance to screw him, he’d lose his boner waiting around for 100kr to talk it out.

Actually that’s a lie, 000 would just wind up frustrated and pounding the stuffing out of him for it.

_That's enough now, 000's brain.  Focus._

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” 000 shakes his head, though less at 100kr and more at his uncontrolled fantasies.  Lacing the coffee may have been a tactical error, actually.

“Perhaps this is a mutual sentiment.”

_Then you take over, you rat bastard._

“ _In any case_ , you get a couple bouncer disguises together.   I’m going to go buy a camera while they still agree to expense it, just in case that turns out to be enough to save our asses."  The Chief wouldn’t have approved the camera for no reason.  At the very _least_ , if tonight turns into a failure, they can just go back to the warehouse and take pictures.  000 isn’t too keen on heading back there anytime today, since they did just break out that morning.  Tomorrow he might be able to hash together a plan for the warehouse, after 000 has eight hours of sleep and less gin in him.

“See, this is a reasonable plan.  Black shirt, black jeans.  Easy enough.”  

000 can take comfort that 100kr at least had a good visual on the bouncers last night.  They were probably the only people in building he could look at directly.

“You don’t need me for this right?” 000 can’t stomach clothing shopping. He bought three of the same suit and six of the same red shirt when he hired on (well… Old Hala bought them, because he was broke as a joke), and that’s the last time he intended to go clothing shopping ever.

“I can handle this task without your assistance," he goes through his mental checklist of disguise material, "I am assuming you will still be opposed to hair dye.”

“Let’s continue that assumption, yes.”  It’s not exactly that 000 is opposed to dying his hair as much as the one time 100kr wanted to, the situation went from “I’m gonna go smoke out the bathroom window while I can” to “please take off your shirt and let me wash out your hair” with no warning or explanation.  000 didn’t even know his partner wanted him to dye his hair.  Unlike their evasive kiss on the subway platform, 000 had enough time to react and earn the disappointing reasoning beforehand.  Somewhere amid the steady stream of curses at him, 100kr came to the conclusion 000 is against hair dye.

000's face is still scabbed over, which will undoubtedly connect him to the asshole that earned it in a park fight and then broke out of the warehouse. “You still have that paint tube from last time?” 000 asks, despite internally dreading the experience that will result.

100kr actually wound up buying new concealer just for the sake of 000, since he never imagined a person could be as ghastly pale as his partner and his collection of cheap disguise makeup didn’t certainly didn't accommodate him.  Unfortunately for 000, this purchase required spending three hours in a mall with various things rubbed into his face.  He doesn’t intend to repeat the adventure anytime soon.  100kr will have to make due with the scabs if he doesn’t have it.

100kr wracks his brain, glancing up at the ceiling as he thinks.  The pasty colored concealer was _expensive_ and he didn’t buy any extra.  “Perhaps, let me check.”

 _Of course his makeup bag is in his coat pocket_ , 000 thinks with an eyeroll.   _Where else would he keep it?_

He fumbles through the red bag, checking labels on tubes, before squirting some on his finger.  “Hold still just a second, I believe this is the one.”

000 groans.  He hates makeup.  It’s all 100kr looming over him, staring him down.  It takes a good bit of self-restraint not to do something stupid every time.  Usually 100kr has a little spongy applicator thing.   000 can shut his eyes and pretend his partner isn't staring at him if he uses a sponge things.

“Hm.  Well, I believe this was the correct color but you’re considerably paler from the last time,” 100kr notes after smearing some over the scabs on his cheek.   His fingers are really warm, despite how much warmer the liquor has left 0000.  “Perhaps you should spend time in the sun more often.”

“No?”  000 enjoys being pale.  It occasionally makes up for the fact he’s from Alola in the first place.

“I think it will be an acceptable match given the relatively poor lighting in the club,” his partner decides, licking his thumb and wiping off the makeup.

“Don’t fucking lick your finger!” 000 snaps, reeling, “I’ve had enough of your spit on me.”

“Come now, that is unfair.  I have excellent cleanliness.”

000 shoves him away, nearly knocking the tube of conceal out of his hand in the process,“Getoff and go find us a disguise.”

100kr huffs at him, stashing the tube back in his pocket.  “All right then.  You’re a 32x32, right?”

“Yeah, that’s-” _Wait a second_.  000 nearly drops his coffee, “Why do you know what size pants I wear?”

100kr flushes red, “I’m… I’m good at sizing people from visual, that is all.”

000 wants to grin and think of all the reasons 100kr might be staring at his lower half that closely, but then he remembers his partner is just an awkward oddball and they both make their living by _noticing things_.  He settles for an eyeroll.  “All right then.”

He scoops Croagunk off the floor quickly. “Off to the department store!  Be back soon!”

100kr darts out of the room, off to procure them both a reasonable disguise for the evening and not risk any more of 000’s attitude this morning.  000 smokes another cigarette, digs the rest of the gin out of the mini-fridge, and takes a shot.  It’s going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author is temporarily back from the dead. Actual schedule for the next few weeks is questionable so I can't actually make promises.
> 
> I'm rolling like 5 hours of sleep in the last 48, so the grammar on this might still be wonky. It looks good and submitting sounds like a good idea in this state, so give me a heads up if anything was still a bit fucked.


	9. KsLuC-0957:8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr infiltrate a strip club.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Strippers. Some mention of BDSM and non-sexual torture. And whatever is going through 000's head at any moment, realistically (on the plus side, he's finally out of liquor).

Actually, it’s going to be a considerably shorter day than 000 expected.  After two shots to drown the pain of his impending schedule, he’s fast asleep in his bed.  He doesn’t roll awake until Persian steps on his shoulder, resulting in a scream and enough pain to not doze off again.  Granted, since he had been dreaming about saving a rather stripper-esque 100kr from a bunch of Rocket grunts, it’s better he’s awake.

And because it’s after 1400 and 000 needs to work instead of nap all day.  100kr might try to lecture him when he notices 000 slept all afternoon.  Actually, 000 finds little odd that 100kr hasn’t noticed already, since it’s after lunch and they typically eat lunch together. He probably distracted himself sewing pockets into his costume pants and forgot to eat again.

000 needed that nap anyway, even if he woke up to a raging hangover that required an entire handful of ibuprofen.  100kr is probably right, he needs to drink more water.  His head continues to pound as he steps into the crowded Lumiose City street.  The summer afternoon is blistering and the IP-dress-code-compliant suit and tie aren’t helping 000’s hangover in the slightest.   If 100kr doesn’t surface by the time he’s scrounged a camera, 000 is hitting the bed again.   _Everything_ hurts.

The camera proves easy enough to hunt down, though he doesn’t speak any Kalosian and the man at the counter is a little frightened by all the scabbing on 000’s face.  They mutually determine 000 wants a camera and film after a round of point/grunt/mime.  The purchase drains a significant chunk of 000’s bank account and he has no understanding of the specs, but at least it fits in his pocket comfortably.  He doesn’t have to look like a goofy tourist with a camera around his neck.  More importantly, he can sneak this into a strip club.

Hopefully MC822 arranges their flights home, or 000 will be hitchhiking his way back to Kanto.  He does have enough left for two deli sandwiches though, even if all the deli has by this hour is canned magikarp salad.  000 doesn’t remember if canned magikarp is on the list of foods his partner doesn’t eat.  100kr can pretend it’s egg salad.

His partner isn't anywhere to be seen in the lobby or the cafe when 000 meanders back to the hotel and he didn't shove a note under 000's door again, so bed it is.  000 definitely has a hangover and if he's learned anything over the years, his partner's babbling makes those worse.  All the ibuprofen in the world won't make his head feel better for that.  100kr can wake him up when he needs him.

XxXxXxX

100kr wakes him up by flipping on all the lights and kicking the edge of 000's bed repeatedly, actually.  "Come on Zeroes, time to awaken and to go back to the club!"

"Stop breaking in," 000 groans, pulling the duvet over his head.  Whatever time it is, they can start this shindig later.

"I would consider that request, but as you have not given me a copy of your card key and you do not wake by a reasonable hour, I am left with no alternative options," 100kr states matter-of-factly, giving the bed another kick, "We have a mission to attend to!"

000 just groans and sits up, rubbing his eyes.  2130.  100kr really let him sleep this day off.  000's is wearing off on him- he's turning into a shitty agent.  "There's a sandwich for you in the fridge."

100kr chuckles, "Coincidence, I made you egg salad if you're still hungry.  It's in my room."

Hell, 000 hasn't even eaten his first sandwich.  He'll eat both, even if he's not fond of egg salad.  "Where are you getting all this egg salad from?"

"I hard boil eggs in the coffee maker," 100kr says, pleased with his ingenuity, "Comes quite in handy if I've already accidentally spent my per diem."

...on chocolate.  000 knows where his money winds up going.  100kr loves Kalosian chocolate.  000 wrangled some out of another field agent for his birthday earlier this year and he accidentally consumed the entire pound in one sitting.

The coffee maker can't be totally sanitary though.

000's stomach grumbles.  Sanitary be damned, he's got a strong stomach.  "Okay, give me a minute."

"No," 100kr states cheerfully, pulling him out of bed by the undershirt, "I know how this winds up ending."

They've been partners for too long.

100kr already has a pair of pants to hand him as well, though it's his suit pants.  Whatever he bought is probably forgotten in his room.  The Tapu only knows what he's been up to all day.  Maybe he took 000's advice and watched some porn.

He could have invited 000 for that.

_NO, he should not have, and stop it, brain._

100kr waits patiently while 000 brushes his teeth and tries to make himself look vaguely presentable, with a few mentions of "I should probably check your stitches" which are unceremoniously ignored.    The stitches are holding up.  His shoulder is fine.  The packing is still in it as far as 000 can tell.  000 can't ask for more all things considered.

000 can and will ask for less dragging by the wrist down the hallway when 100kr decides he's presentable and collected enough of his things for the mission ( _sandwiches_ , _smokes, knife, pokeball, gun, camera, pen, wallet... ROOM KEY_ ).  Persian follows in amusement, eager to eat whatever food Croagunk left in his bowl.

"By the Tapu, I can walk, you know." 000 takes an egg-salad sandwich and a cup of coffee from 100kr as the man sits him down in the desk chair.  Half cream, half sugar, some coffee, just as he likes it.  It tastes vaguely like eggs though, meaning 100kr has been dual-purposing the room coffee maker instead of just going to the cafe downstairs.  He's really spent all his per diem on chocolate.

In all fairness, last week 000 spent all of his on drinks and ate cheesepuffs or half of 100kr's meals all week.

"I do not trust you until you are fully awake." He fumbles with his makeup bag, searching for the concealer tube. "Hold still, I need to cover up your face."

_Twelve inches and closing in. Oh. Joy._

"You could phrase that nicer," 000 grumbles, tossing Persian half his sandwich as she eyes Croagunk's bowl.  He would let her out to hunt, but they're already in enough hot water with local PD after last night.  The Chief would have a field day if they filed a report on a shiny persian mauling a gogoat.  She's far too lazy to go after the fletching.

100kr digs up the correct tube and it's fingers to the face.   _What happened to all the little spongey things?_  "My apologies, I need to cover up the _scabs_ on your face," 100kr corrects himself, "Do you prefer the blue wig or the black one?"

000 couldn't imagine having less of an opinion on anything.  "Your call."

"Blue for yourself then."

Granted, he still musters up an opinion regardless.  "Your hair is already black...ish." Dark brown, black, 000 is close enough.  It's somewhere between those two.

"That is why it is such an effective disguise," his partner explains, smudging around the makeup.

000 rolls his eyes.  "I think made more sense in your head than it actually does."

"Then you may borrow the black one," 100kr grumbles, removing his fucking fingers, "There, no need to flinch, I'm already finished."

On further review, as 000 changes into the clothes his partner procured in the bathroom, 100kr didn't do all that bad of a job.  He can't see the scabs and he can't tell they were there.  He could have maybe covered up the circles under 000's eyes while he was at it, but realistically 000 wasn't going to put up with more of 100kr touching him.

It's been awhile since he last wore jeans.  The dress code accounts for a suit and tie and nothing else.  000 already constantly skirts the rules half the time anyway by rolling his sleeves and occasionally wearing sneakers.  He typically saves the sneakers for the office, when he knows it'll piss off the Chief.  It's not his fault the dress code only says "closed-toed shoe".

He kicks at the shower curtain a few times to make sure he can still nail someone in the crotch if he has to.  Jeans have less give than slacks, though he can throw a better punch in a t-shirt, even if 100kr apparently bought him a fucking small and it feels like it's going to choke the life out of him.  The wig sort of gets the way, but realistically that'll come off if they're at the point 000's is in a fist fight.

"You decent?  We need to roll," he asks, cracking the door.  100kr gets kind of weird with changing.  He'll deal with locker rooms, camping trips, 000's boxers, and stripping down his partner to stitch up his sides, but every time it's just the two of them, somebody _has_ to take the bathroom and give ample warning.

"I am dressed and ready."  He's stuffing his gun into his waistband when 000 wanders out, ready to face tonight. "I think these are a tad... tight given everything I had intended on carrying, but if you have a knife I cannot imagine a necessity specifically for safety scissors."

"Skip the juice boxes too," 000 suggests sarcastically, "We'll find a vending machine."

000 has actually never seen him in anything besides sweatpants or slacks.  His ass looks nice in jeans.  It's nice enough that 000 can forget how goofy he looks in the blue wig.  It's cut nearly shoulder length... which matches exactly none of 100kr's personality.

_000, you have a Tapu-damned mission to finish.  FOCUS._

It's the jeans.  He blames the jeans.

He checks his packs of smokes- fifteen left.  He's going to need five of those just on the way there.  100kr's pants are pretty tight, even with everything he owns undoubtedly stuffed in them.

XxXxXxX

100kr winds up picking the lock to the utility entrance from the other night, a process 000 nearly takes over and backseat drives nonetheless.  Turns out those doors one-way lock themselves.  

"Third floor, right?" 100kr asks, turned around already.  Building guts are basically maps to him.

000 nods, wracking his brain for the layout of the building as far as he could tell.  The hallway ran perpendicular to the stage and this exit is on the opposite end from where the stage should be.  Hopefully there is a door somewhere along that hallway that can take them backstage.

"Well, we will at least need to abscond with her out the back exit," 100kr notes, as the climb the stairs, "It will cause less of a distraction."

"No shit?  I hope you're ready to carry her too, because she's going to be dead weight all the way to the police station up the street," 000 reminds him, remembering his attempt to carry Croagunk for a mile.

"Yes, I hope I am too," 100kr notes, sounding nervous.

"You know, if I ever had to describe this job, it would literally be 'travel the world, see utility stairs, alternate exits, crap hallways, and fire escapes in exotic locations'," 000 notes offhandedly as the climb the stairs.  This staircase could just as easily be back in Saffron, yet they're all the way across the globe, in the cultural capital of the world.

100kr covers his mouth, trying to keep from bursting into laughter as they go.  "It certainly lacks a considerable level of glamour in reality compared to first assumptions."

"Remember our first mission?" 000 reminds him, "When we camped on that roof in Goldenrod for two days?"  They'd been up there with a pair of binoculars, alternating keeping watch on Rocket activity next door.   000 thought he would go insane after the first hour.  That might have been the least glamorous thing he'd ever been assigned to.

"I believe the senior agents only designated us to that task to prevent us from being underfoot."

" _No shit_ ."  That's _exactly_ what the senior agents done.  000 had been _furious_ with them, even if in retrospect two years later, 000 would have done the exact same thing if he was handed a novice.  Hell, he probably wouldn't let the poor bastard leave the hotel room. "Never thought I'd stay at this job after that one."

"I was concerned you wouldn't as well," 100kr admits, "Or you would be dismissed after you yelled at the other agents.  You were positively enraged by the time we received the order to come down."

"My first disciplinary hearing," 000 remembers with a shit-eating grin.  100kr had spent the entire night before "prepping" him- which largely involved 100kr pacing all six available feet of 000's apartment, anxiously quizzing 000 on all the handbook policies his hissy fit had broken, while 000 humored him and drank.  The other agent had been considerably more worried than 000 would ever be (Agent ZZ001 already told 000 the ordeal was just a lame attempt to scare him straight anyway).

"I am still relieved of the outcome... also the outcomes of the ones since then," 100kr says as they reach the door.  "And I am quite glad you decided to remain an IP agent."

"Heh, the job isn't boring at least."  The Tapu knows, the boredom of Alola would kill him after this job.

_Game time._

The third floor hallway is devoid of activity, minus a particularly drunk patron stumbling for the bathroom.  Crappy techno music from the stripclub itself blasts through the walls.  There's considerably more activity tonight than the previous nights- good for recon.  The dancers will hopefully be too busy to pay the two agents any mind.

For good measure, 100kr picks a few of the locks on the empty hallway while 000 awkwardly stands between him and the door to the club, keeping watch.

_Eight inches. Maybe seven._

Two janitorial closets, what appears to be a prop room, and an empty closet that appears to be used for the occasional "more intensive" services.  It's some kind of weird BDSM dungeon... whips, rope, a couple shitty knives, shitton of dildos in various sizes, what looks like a spiked club. The Tapu help the poor dancer who has to go through with that.

100kr is, reasonably, confused. "I believe I am going to require an explanation-"

He clearly didn't watch any porn as 000 suggested.

"Lap dances, KR. ' _High intensity_ ' ones," 000 simplifies.  There is a defined list of things he's willing to clarify to 100kr that grade school evidentially didn't teach him. Sadomasochism honestly isn't anywhere on that list, at least not mid-mission.

100kr winces, "This is all an interesting decision for that activity."

"One of these days you'll figure it out."

"That's slightly beyond mastering kissing, I'll presume," 100kr says, mostly to himself.  It sounds like a joke, but, while he's unintentionally hilarious sometimes, 100kr rarely makes jokes and even less often at his own expense.

"Told you to watch a porno," 000 shrugs, "I guess we can stuff her in there and come back if we have to.  Or leave a note for the Lumiose cops."

"This is an option, yes," 100kr responds, still a little unsettled as he shuts the door.

"Welp, time to checkout backstage," 000 sighs as they walk up the hallway, "Look tough, you're supposed to be a bouncer."

"I am tough always," 100kr smiles, putting his hands on his hips, "This will be the easiest disguise yet."

000 shakes his head as he opens the door that, based on his limited knowledge of the building layout, should take them behind the mainstage.  Hopefully 100kr is ready to see nude girls.  He certainly wasn't ready to see BDSM.  Worst case scenario, they can run, since they at least know the exact path out of the building this time.  000 _will_ get competitive on the stairs if 100kr blows their cover here.

It opens up to another hallway, this one with mostly nude women (lots of toplessness, thongs, see-through lace... only sort of clothing) running between what 000's assumes are "dressing" rooms.  Dressing is a little bit of a stretch when someone only has nipple tassles on.  He glances over at 100kr- the man is surprisingly stoic.  Maybe a disguise was all he needed to get his head in gear.

The dancers pay them no mind- other bouncers pop in and out of dressing rooms, shuffling girls along to clients.  000 and 100kr manage to stroll up nearly the entire hallway, 000 holding back about three steps to try to look less suspicious and 100kr periodically slowing down upon realization that he's suddenly in the lead.  It's the best 000 can expect out of him, realistically.  Nobody cares they're here anyway.

All the changing rooms appear used, with girls doing their makeup at the mirrors or changing in and out of lingerie.  Those are out.  There's a closed doors, though all but one appears to be dark.  Might be offices, might be more storage.  Hiding in that other hallway until the show's over is probably going to be their best bet.

Their admin walks out of a door to their right almost as soon as they get halfway down, barking orders in a familiar accent.  She's _definitely_ the woman they heard at the warehouse.  She reminds 000 of the Chief, only blonder, bustier, and showing considerably more skin.  "I need three girls to-" She changes subject as soon as she glances at 000, "Well now, it's the clowns from the warehouse."

_Well._

_Fuck._

Suddenly both agents are back to back.  100kr draws his gun and 000 releases Persian.  They can't actually run from this part of the hallway, there's employees on all sides.  Despite having on nothing but a see-through nightgown-type thing (there's an official name for that getup, 000 is sure of it but that doesn't exactly matter right now) and underwear, the admin procures a pokeball and releases a medicham.

 _Well, that's unfortunate_.

"Persian, POWER GEM!" 000 orders immediately.

"Focus blast!" Admin Cyndi retorts.

Medicham was possibly the worst thing they could have gone against.  It's much faster than Persian and focus blast hits her dead on.  She faints before 000 can even react.

_She's not going to be happy about that.  She's really not going to be happy about that._

Suddenly, there's six more strippers in the hallway, releasing pokemon.  Two hitmontop, a slowpoke, a skitty, a kirlia, and a gliscor.  They aren't technically strippers at all, 000 realizes.  The girls are Team Rocket, just like the admin.

Fuckall, 000 and 100kr just waltzed into a better-armed warehouse.

"Put the gun down, or the next one hits you," Cyndi informs them, hands on her hips and a grin across her face.

Both agents stick their hands in the air.  100kr crouches down, gently laying his pistol on the ground.  000 can see him reaching for his pocket as he comes back to standing.   _Most_ of these have the potential to fuck Croagunk up quite nicely, and 100kr has apparently, once again, forgotten literally everything 000 has ever told him about battling.  His partner desperately needs remedial trainer lessons.  Or flash cards.  They'll be making fucking flash cards if they survive this.

"Don't send him out," 000 hisses.

"You hold still, I see that pistol on your hip," one of the red-headed stipper grunts commands from behind 000.  She takes 000's .22 out of its holster, winking at 100kr as she does.  

000 sighs.  If only his partner could turn on the charm, they might have a strategy for evading kidnap.  100kr _is_ pretty cute, even in the goofy blue wig.  They _could_ take the Chief's advice and have him seduce a few of the girls.  Too bad the man is clueless and just responds with a disgruntled " _hmph_ ".

"I was wondering what two self-described members of the International Police would be doing after they broke out of our warehouse," the admin chuckles, "As much as I was wondering about what the International Police would be doing here at all.  I thought I'd never get the chance to ask, since two members of the IP operating in a restricted zone would be under orders to leave after they'd managed to narrowly escape. It's _such_ a pleasant surprise that we'll be able to talk now."

"Yeah, we're real thrilled to see you too," 000 spits.  Much like being yelling, 000 isn't phased nonspecific threatening tones either, and never will be.

"Pat them down and tie them up in the dungeon.  We'll see what we can drag out of them after the set's over tonight," Cyndi orders the other girls.

"The dungeon is booked all evening," a brunette grunt in a latex one-piece reminds her, recalling the skitty.  "First client in three minutes."

Cyndi groans, "Arceus... forgot about that.  Clear a powder room, we'll hold them in there.  I'm not losing any money tonight over this bullshit."

"Oh by the Tapu, kidnapped again," 000 says sarcastically, though 100kr elbows him. 000 isn't sure if the elbow is for being a shit or for swearing by the Tapu (there aren't other Alolans in the IP,  he's officially supposed to swear by Arceus for purposes of concealing his identity).  "I wonder how long it will take us to escape this time."

"We'll keep a closer eye on you two this time.  There's bigger fish that want to know about the IP in Lumiose," the admin informs him snidely, "It's been a _while_ since we got the okay to force information out of anybody.  Plus, the river's moving fast this week, it'll be easier to dispose of you when we're done."

That dungeon room on the other hallway probably has several uses, 000 realizes with a nervous gulp.  To think, he assumed this morning's call with the Chief would be the worst he could ever be scared shitless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been backstage of anything (and blisteringly drunk the only time I've been in a strip club), so I'm assuming it's a shitty hallway with dressing rooms. I don't do a lot of performing arts. I also know nothing about BDSM, but considering I'm stuck on client provided wifi for at least the next month or two, I'm not about to do any research on the subject. You're stuck with my terrible interpretation of that, since three lines of accuracy isn't worth delaying a chapter.
> 
> Fic hc: Looker's not really a trainer, so his immediate knowledge of type advantages and disadvantages and move-sets Croagunk doesn't know are pretty much null. He didn't really know the first thing about pokemon battles until Nanu came along. Nanu also wound up doing most of the actual battle training (at least part of the reason Looker doesn't have any pokemon since Croagunk passed in the game).
> 
> Also HC: Nanu's been told about a thousand times to take Arceus's name in vain, not any of the Tapus. He can't break the habit. Looker lets him be if it's just the two of them.
> 
> This chapter dedicated to my friend who is actually a stripper and would also love to be in Team Rocket. And also probably a lot smarter than me, because she only works 12 hours a week, makes more than me, and isn't up to her eyeballs in student loan debt. Both our industries have meth, prostitution, and creepzilla problems, so it's not like I wound up any better off for it.


	10. KsLuC-0957:9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr are hostages again. And 100kr feels the need to confess some things, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Lots of mature themes (sex toys, lingerie, strippers), no actual sexual content. Unsafe gun handling. Also chaste handholding. And 000's brain.

Being tied to a chair by strippers with random pieces of lingerie is considerably _less_ sexy than 000 expected.  Granted, they aren’t strippers.  They’re actually Rocket grunts and they just knocked out Persian, emptied 000 and 100kr's pockets again, and took their firearms.  And based on their admin's words throughout this process, they have every intention of torturing 000 and 100kr for information on the IP once they close up the Pink Ponyta tonight.  Team Rocket has apparently been blowing most of the budget paying off the Lumiose Gym and Admin Cyndi isn't real thrilled about 000 and 100kr slipping through the cracks anyway.

Plus, apparently Team Rocket hasn't captured anyone from the International Police in quite some time.  They're low on recon information.  As if 000 didn't have enough reasons to feel shitty about this fiasco, he and 100kr are the first IP agents they've successfully held hostage in a year or two worldwide

As it turns out, 000 _should_ have been worried about those security cameras.  They were definitely hooked up.  Luckily, the grunt running security that night dozed off, but Team Rocket still got a decent enough recording of the two agents.  There had been a city-wide watch for 000 and 100kr all day, and they instead stumbled straight into Team Rocket's lap like the unrepentant dumbasses they probably are.

Admittedly, 000 could have come up with a _slightly_ better plan.

Between the impending torture and the women without reasonable amounts of clothing, 100kr seems like he’s starting to lose it.  000 can’t actually tell.  He hasn't made a peep, probably out of fear of word salad, and their folding chairs are back to back so 000 can't manage more than a glance at the back of his partner's head.  100kr at least faces the mirror side of the dressing room.  000 has only been granted a fine view of the door to the hallway and a beaten leather couch in the corner.  He doesn't even want to know how those seats glow under a blacklight.

100kr is breathing pretty damn hard, though.  000 can feel his partner's hands constantly brush against his as he squirms around.  100kr doesn’t have a whole lot of movement- one of the blonde ones in green latex (Chris? Chrissy?) bound his wrists behind the chair with a (probably used) thong, which is cruel and legitimately also a little disgusting.  000 at least got fuzzy handcuffs, which on further review, are actual fucking handcuffs and not cheap sex toys.  The various pieces of lingerie holding his chest and legs to the folding chair also appear to be kevlar reinforced (probably not, but 000 wants to believe it anyway).  000 isn’t confident he can tear himself out.

He doesn’t particularly want to anyway, because there’s a stripper grunt ("Christine") pointing 100kr’s .45 at him.  000 is not faster than a gun.  He's reasonably confident in his limits versus a firearm.

One of the other blonde stripper grunts ("Candy"... or probably "Candi") procures another (probably used) thong from an uncontained laundry pile next to the couch. “We really need to start keeping rope or duct tape or something around here," she muses over the crappy techno music bleeding through the walls. It's really just _not_ good.  000 has heard idiot teenage wannabes on Alola arrange better, and that's saying something.

“Mistress Emmeline has a break in three hours, get some from her when she's free," Admin Cyndi explains from the door, her tone a mix between disinterest and mild aggravation,  "This will have to do for now, we have a full book of clients at the dungeon tonight and nobody exactly free to run to the store.”

“P-p-please do not gag me with dirty undergarments…” 100kr pleads, repeating his words in Kalosian.  They all at least appear to speak Kalosian, though the accents are a random assortment.  Pink-haired, definitely-not-hot-enough-to-be-a-stripper Christine is definitely Kanton.  Candi with the super nice ass sounds Unovan. Latex Chrissy is a weird Kanton, 000 would guess Sevii Islands if he had to.  “P-please…I will continue to remain quiet.”

_One inch.  Quarter inch.  Zero.  Eighth?  Quarter inch._

“He’s going to scream if you put that near his face,” 000 advises with an eye roll, “It’ll be counterproductive.”

This might be the easiest round of torture in the history of cold warfare.  They just have to give 100kr a lap dance and they’ll know everything they ever wanted to about the International Police, plus some resoundingly useless details about the takeout place below his apartment, his childhood, and his opinion on chocolate brands.  Hopefully they don't realize that, because hilarious as it always sounded, 000 doesn't want to see his partner go through that.  000 might kill all of them and die trying.

Granted, the Tapu only knows what he'll do if they try to physically harm 100kr.  They're going to have to start with 000 if they want any chance at a successful round of torture .  Otherwise it'll just turn into double-suicide-multiple-murder-the-Tapu-only-knows-clusterfuck.  000 _won't_ let them touch 100kr, even if he doesn't exactly have a plan as to how he'll prevent that.  His fear has already funneled itself straight into anger, even though it's just the anger than any of this is happening to his partner.

000 really does need a plan if doesn't want this to boil down to psychosis.

“Forget it,” Admin Cyndi decides, throwing her hands in the air, “They might say something useful anyway so we don’t have to waste any time killing them later.  Just shoot the short one if they get loud.”

100kr whimpers but otherwise shuts up.

“Why is it always me?” 000 asks rhetorically, “I’m kind of sick of getting injured actually.”  He needs to order a kevlar vest from procurement.  It’s been on his to-do list, and the Tapu knows he has the shit kicked out of him often enough to warrant it.  Shot is about the only thing that hasn't happened to him yet.

“Why do I have to do it?” Christine whines, as if keeping IP agents hostage is part of a typical Saturday night for them, “I’m missing out on tips for tonight.”

“I’ll make the rest of the girls split tips.  Just keep an eye on them," Cyndi barks.

Christine dramatically throws herself onto the couch, keeping the gun pointed at 000, as the admin and her other grunts walk out.  It doesn’t like a particularly intelligent decision, since Christine is wearing legitimately nothing and that couch can’t be clean.  000 wouldn’t sit on it for all the money in the world, and he at least has pants on.

“This is bullshit,” she sighs, trying to pick at a split end one-handed.

“I agree, this _is_ bullshit,” 000 shoots back snidely.  He tries to squirm around, seeing if the knots between thongs have any give.  Nothing.  He’s got to hand it to Team Rocket, their basic skills training beats the shit out of the IP’s.  000 can’t tie knots like these to save his life.

“Quit moving or I’ll shoot," she threatens lamely, not looking up from her hair.

000's anger in turn starts to funnel into snark, “How do you know I don’t have a bulletproof vest on?”

Christin shoots a glare at 000, “Because I’ll shoot you in the face.”

“Fair.”

"Your buddy is cuter without his wig," she notes, returning to playing with her hair, "Shame we're not keeping you two."

" _Hmph_ ," 100kr spits, almost automatically, "You are not my type."

_Zero.  Three-eighths.  As if that matters in the slightest, KR._

He's still squirming.  His fingers keep brushing against 000's and every few seconds his chair bumps against his partner's, knocking 000's bad shoulder and sending a burst of pain through him.  000 ignores it.

_One-sixteenth.  The Tapu almighty, you really dragged the poor fuck straight into hell.  Zero.  One quarter._

Legitimately, any other situation involving 100kr tied to a chair would have 000 going so badly he'd need to excuse himself and still find a whole handle of grain liquor.  Since this isn't any other situation, 000 can admit that to himself.  He's just flat out terrified for his partner and their potentially short future.  100kr usually has more to say when shit hits the fan.

000's range of movement is a little better than his partner's with the handcuffs, and he manages to get his hands around 100kr’s fingers.  Human touch is supposed to be calming and all that- the IP told them that in their "Victim Management" class (and every subsequent refresher 000 has skipped, probably).  100kr used to get huggy when he was scared anyway (000 put a stop to that habit with a few elbows to to the face), so it’ll probably work on him too.  Who gives a fuck if 000 is against physical contact.  They’re both going to die here anyway.

Plus they’re going to die here if 000 seriously doesn't think up _something_ and 000 sort of needs to calm down himself to do that.  He can't fucking focus when his brain sends him constant reminders that his partner's proximity rapidly alternates between one-quarter, one-sixteenth, and zero inches.  They _need_ a plan and 000 can't think of anything for the life of him.  He's been held hostage, yes, but not with an armed guard before and certainly not under threat of torture.  Granted, they have literally no useful information to give but 000 isn't exactly confident Team Rocket will accept that answer.

000’s hands close around 100kr’s fingers and he squeezes.

_ZERO.  Now stay the fuck still you idiot._

100kr’s pulse keeps racing, but he stops squirming at least (and tries to squeeze back... 000 thinks anyway- he's seriously hosed on range of movement). His hands are real warm, which is nice given the AC in this part of the building.  000 can't understand how the strippers handle the frigid temperatures, since it's cold enough to make 000 miss his blazer.  He never imagined he'd want his parka in July.

Plan... 000 needs a plan.  Well, the stripper grunt needs less gun in her hand too.  If they can distract her, 000 can probably start to untie 100kr's wrists.  Well, something besides the two agents needs to distract her, she'll notice if 000 starts to wiggle around.  Maybe he can press his luck and cause a ruckus.  She might call on one of the bouncers then and leave them alone for a few minutes.

000 will need at least five, he's not fantastic with knots when he doesn't have eyes on them.

If his wrists are free, 100kr is skinny enough to shimmy out of the glitter bras and leotard holding his torso to the chair. 000's gun is on the dressing room table, 100kr will be in arm's length or at least close enough and can shoot whatever backup Christine brings.  000 will have to duck and roll, which will be a _little more_ than difficult with the folding chair and the handcuffs, but nothing motivates 000 quite like gunfire.

000 hates being on the defensive this early too.  They're far outnumbered, they need some semblance of an offensive advantage if they want any hope of living through tonight.  He'll come up with something for that once 100kr is untied.

Being enough of a pain in the ass to require backup but not get shot is going to be the difficult part, but-

“All right, I have a few confessions to make,” 100kr announces out of the blue, cutting off 000's train of thought.  “I am the one that destroyed your blue gym t-shirt with red drink when we were in training together.”

“What the hell, KR?" 000 says, mouth agape.  Of all the things 100kr could blurt right now, this is something 000 _least_ expected.  Also, 000 didn’t think 100kr destroyed his blue Malie Gardens shirt, he figured it had been any of the other shithead trainee agents who regularly spilled electrolyte drink all over the locker room.  He didn't particularly care either way, he _still_ has three more to destroy at the gym.  000 can't manage to destroy all of them for the life of him.

He could just throw them out, but that feels like such a waste.  If they live through tonight, they're going to a thrift store.  000 could use the tax deduction anyway, he's rapidly approaching the income bracket where Alola will double tax him.

_FOCUS, 000._

“It was entirely unintentional!" his partner apologizes profusely,"I'm so sorry!  I thought it was a rag!  I left sufficient funds in your pockets for a replacement!  I'm sorry!”

"I mean what the hell, why are you telling me this?” he clarifies, genuinely confused.

“We are about to die, I thought you should know before we do. The guilt has been eating at me.”

000 barely knows what to make of his partner's ridiculous words, but winds up responding anyway, “Well, I’m the one who ate all your candy canes that time in training.”

“Oh, I was already well aware that the culprit had been you," 100kr replies, shrugging his shoulders as much as he can manage.

“How?”  He snuck the bag out of 100kr's backpack while he'd gone to shower at the gym.  There's no way he saw that.  000 was safely back in his room with it long before 100kr probably noticed.

“You left a trail of sticky handprints all around my room when you came to study the evening after I discovered they were missing,” he explains, with a hint of irritation in his voice.

"Sticky could have been anything," 000 shoots back with a shrug, suddenly wishing he'd been gagged. Sometimes 000 hardly believes he left grade school with the shit that doesn't filter when he speaks.

100kr audibly winces, "I would like to believe that it had been candy canes.  I am quite glad it was candy canes."

Well, 000 is more or less out of things of value to confess.  He's certainly not going to talk about his raging attraction to the man, not here on his deathbed while he's holding hands with the poor bastard.  Hell, they could get out of this alive and 100kr could strip naked and beg 000 to take him, and 000 still probably wouldn't admit his attraction to him (let it be known, 000 would still accept the offer, that goes without saying).  Some things will just remain in 000's head until he dies... which might well be in a few hours if 100kr doesn't shut the fuck up so 000 can plan their escape.

“Well, I don’t give a damn about the shirt so I guess we’re even," 000 grunts.  He needs to be thinking, not chatting like they're having a Tapu-damned tea party.

“Th-that is not the only one!” 100kr decides quickly, "I- I- I discovered you snuck out the other evening.  Involving myself in your personal affairs, most unprofessional and quite rude."

"Because I _told_ you about it after the fact," 000 reminds him, rolling his eyes.  Actually, 000 really should stop discussing the people he screws (or more typically, attempts to) with 100kr.  For one, it's giving 100kr the wrong idea (which actually, was entirely the point in the first place but since they're about to die, 000 has largely changed his mind on this).  For two, 100kr apparently has absolutely nothing to contribute to these conversations and it's a little rude in retrospect.

"Right... I forgot we had that discussion actually.  Well, also, well..." 100kr winces, struggling for the words, “I, er, I… I... well, I..."

This is not the time for word salad.  This is why 000's is trying to hold his Tapu-damned fucking hands.  He cannot afford to word salad right now, especially over his own Tapu-damned confessions that he suddenly feels the need to own up to!  There isn't a reasonable time and place to hear the inner machinations of 100kr's guilt, and this _especially_ isn't it.

"Just spit it the fuck out," 000 barks, not in the mood for this.  He needs to distract Christine in a way that says 'I need backup' and not 'I need to shoot the short one.'

"I- I- back- before- had- I- I intentionally lost the final match in sparring class back when we were in training so you would win and receive a higher final grade than I!” 100kr blurts.

Well, 000 certainly hadn't expected that.

000’s heart nearly stops.  Winning that fight had actually been one of the few things 000’s was _proud of_ \- he'd kicked 100kr's ass, which certainly wasn't an easy feat.  100kr is a damn good fighter and 000 realistically didn't think he stood a chance.  That sparring match was harder than 95% of the fights he's been in with actual hostiles. Moreover, that single result brought up 000’s total training grade high enough that he tied for top of the field agent class with 100kr.  “Wait, _what_?!”

"I- I- had I, had you had- had you, if-"

_Word salad, fucking perfect_.

000 doesn't care, he decides.  " _Why?"_

“I- I- I allowed you to win instead of me.  If you had not won, your final marks would have been three points lower than mine overall,” his partner explains desperately, squirming but also not letting go of 000.  It only makes 000’s clench his hands harder.

The top candidate in every class was given the opportunity to chose their assignment.  Global wasn’t selecting field agents from the training pool their year, so if anybody wanted that job, they needed to come in first.  000 and 100kr had both wanted to be Global field agents.  They tied for top of the class.  They went to Global together.

“I thought I actually won," 000 says dejectedly, mostly to himself.

If nothing else, he’ll just break 100kr’s fingers before Team Rocket gets the chance.  100kr yelps but doesn't say anything about his hands.  “Well, you did technically win against me, as I presented you with an opening and you took full advantage of it… well, several openings, but you knocked me out and won in the end.  So, yes, you did win the match.”

100kr's mental gymnastics could win an Olympic medal.

“Why the flying fuck would you do that?!” 000 seethes, his face hot with anger.  He's never heard something so simultaneously 100kr- and not-100kr-like at once.  The man is a stickler for rules and fairness and all other bullshit of that nature.  He would also hand the shirt off his back if somebody asked for it.  Hell, he has even when 000 didn't ask for it.  He certainly didn't ask the man to risk his chance at his dream career for him either.  “I could have wound up the top of the class instead!”

And 100kr would have wound up full-time in Hoenn or Kalos or any of the other shithole regional assignments.  Or worse, something exceptionally shitty like logistics or inventory control.

“I had calculated all the totals from our training scores.  Unless you successfully performed a miracle on the final exam in basic electronics, you could only tie me,” 100kr informs him, “And if I had not done that, you would most likely be an agent assigned in Sinnoh division or somewhere equally unsavory and cold.  It is a considerably better outcome that we could both be in Global together.”

_There’s something more unsavory than being tied up with used thongs in a stripper’s dressing room?_

“I thought I actually beat you!  We’re rematching!” 000 fumes.  "As soon as we get out of here, we're having a rematch!"

Or at least break his fingers.  Surprisingly, 100kr hasn’t said anything about the death grip yet and the longer this conversation goes on the more 000 squeezes the life out of him.

“I will do nothing of the sort," he states defiantly, "We are partners now, Zeroes. I could not intentionally hurt you.”

“That’s cute.  I’m going to beat the fucking _piss_ out of you," 000 shoots back.

“Neither of you will, we’re going to kill you later,” Christine says, her tone dripping in boredom, “And this is the gayest shit I’ve heard from anyone, ever.”

“ _You’re_ the one wearing a thong and nipple tassels and we’ve made zero comments about _your_ sexuality,” 000 snaps, “I think you could offer us the same courtesy.”

Her tits aren't really big enough to justify nipple tassels anyway.  000 certainly isn't impressed.  100kr probably has a better rack and he's a _guy_.

“I- I think everything worked out for the best for both of us in the end,” 100kr justifies himself nervously, "I mean, you are here and I am here, which is exactly what we both wanted to happen I would think."

"This isn't exactly our _finest_ hour, KR," 000 reminds him.  At the very _least_ , he's going to break his fingers before the end of the night.

Forget the subway platform kiss.   _This_ is swiftly becoming the single most disappointing moment in 000's life.  It's just shades of everything he hated about Alola.  Gods chose the Kahunas, Kahunas choose the trial captains... nobody gets anything because they earn it.  Just like 000 apparently didn't become a Global field agent because he'd earned it.  He became a Global field agent because 100kr wanted him to be one.

And honestly, it's shown this entire mission.  They're completely fucked right now and going to get killed by Team Rocket.

_Granted,  you'd be fine if you didn't have a raging crush on this idiot the whole time_.

"You both are little twits, you know that right?" Christine tells them, waving the gun at 000.  Someone really needs to teach a better firearm safety class to the Grunts.  Her finger is on the fucking trigger.  Granted, 100kr has a fucking twelve pound trigger pull and 000 can barely set it off intentionally (dropping on the floor is occasionally the most effective firing mechanism, though).  Odds are low Christine will accidentally shoot him.

"Be careful who you're calling 'little', there's a good chance I'm older than you," 000 snaps.  Christine is probably early twenties, despite the beginnings of meth-addicty wrinkles and smoker's lines around her mouth.  Plus 000 likes to believe his gray hair makes him look convincingly older and more mature.

She chuckles, "It certainly isn't doing you much good."

"How about you come over here and say that?"  000 snarls at her.  He's not in the mood to take shit from a stripper grunt.  He'd rather berate 100kr more over his idiotic (but ultimately fortunate for 000... 000 isn't about to admit that) decision two years ago.

Bad move, Christine stands up.

100kr begins squirming again and starts babbling... in Alolan?  It _sounds_ like Old Alolan, but his accent is terrible and he doesn't make any sense contextually (granted, the latter is more or less 100kr's general MO).  He had 000 teach him the little 000 knows of the language on a few occasions, but ultimately, 000 isn't great at languages and an even worse teacher.  100kr knows some vocabulary, but it's mostly limited to things 000 can point out in the park back in Saffron.

"Hey, none of that now!" Christine puts both hands on the gun aimed at 000 and starts walking forward, "Kalosian or Standard, none of this secret planning nonsense."

"Drop the..fish? KR, you're saying 'drop the fish'."  He also has 'drop' conjugated in a past collective tense and it's more like 'some of 100kr's fish' with fish in the singular, but that's beyond the point.

"N- n-no, no, not fish, I mean- mean saying- to say- blast it!"

She waves the gun in front of 000's head.   "No secret plans now, or I'll blow this little fuckers head off."

"All he's telling me is to drop the fish," 000 informs her with an eyeroll, "I'll keep you posted, don't worry."

"I did not mean to say fish!"

"Do you speak Johtan?" 000 asks Christine sarcastically, "KR, try Johtan."

She grabs 000 by the collar of his shirt, ripping him and the chair forward.  Pole dancing... clearly a fairly strength-intensive career choice, even if 000 doesn't weigh all that much.  His grip on 100kr's fingers breaks as he's pulled forward.  So much for the warmth.

_That's at least four inches._

"You think you're funny, don't you?" she snarls.

000 cracks a shit-eating grin, "I'm _hilarious_."

_You're about to get pistol whipped, 000.  Make it count._

"Well, according to your partner here you're certainly a joke."  She pulls him closer until they're nearly nose to nose.  Her breath smells like ass- ash and the Tapu only knows what else mixed together.  000 realizes then and there that he needs to carry breath mints if he's not going to quit smoking.  His probably smells the same way.

_No wonder 100kr kept spitting after the subway.  Serves him right, he fucking cheated so I could be a Global agent._

Fuck it, no breath mints _ever._

000 has never been one to back down to someone else's anger, and less likely when they're slinging threats.  "Why don't you untie me and we'll see who's the joke."

"How about I just shoot you through the kneecap instead? You IP fucks are apparently find with cheating."

"Actually, I believe that has been quite enough injuring Zeroes for one mission," 100kr responds, his fist coming out of nowhere and colliding with Christine's jaw.  

She falls to the floor, the .45 falling out of her hand and sliding across the room.  000's heart stops again.  That thing goes off for no reason sometimes.  100kr shoots past her, dragging the chair still tied to his right leg, and recovers his pistol.

_Wait when in the fucking Tapu-damned hell did he untie himself?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic Lore/HC/whatever: You get no opportunities in Alola if you aren't a Trial Captain first, and being a Trial Captain involves some degree of sucking up to the Kahunas even if you are a good trainer. I think this was more or less implied with Guzma. Hence why Nanu never appoints his trial captains in the game and is like 'fucking figure it out yourselves, you little shits'- he's pretty disillusioned with the system and doesn't want to know he's responsible for that part of it.
> 
> Also: Nanu speaks Johtan (just try telling me he's not ethnically Johtan...), Old Alolan, and Kanton Standard. Looker speaks (almost) everything.
> 
> Between the re-write and my work schedule for the next week, it'll be a bit before the next chapter comes out. Sorry folks, I realize I cliffhangered this one.
> 
> ALSO: I'm trying to find actual military/swat/police/whatever tactics on how to escape a hostage situation (I don't really like how things originally played out in the next few chapters and they're getting re-write). I haven't dredged up anything of value and my ex-FBI buddy hasn't shown up to work lately for consultation. If anybody by some miracle knows of some kind of manual or wiki page or something, I'd appreciate passing if you could pass it along... I'm still looking myself.


	11. KsLuC-0957:10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr attempt to escape. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Half-hearted threats of suicide via shower curtain rod. Some violence. Gun use. Vomit (not well described, I hate grossout for the sake of it). They're also still in a strip club.

100kr points his pistol straight at the stripper grunt.  "Please be quiet, we had that courtesy when we were being captured."

"Please tell me you have tape or something," 000 says, squirming around in his chair.  How the hell can 100kr get himself out but he can't?  This definitely isn't helping 000's revelations regarding his legitimacy as a field agent.

"I am carrying a roll of tape!  I took consideration of your suggestion!"  Sure enough, he's carrying half a roll of duct tape somewhere around his calves, which confuses Christine considerably more than the punch.  He makes quick work of hog-tieing her and putting a strip over her mouth.  The scene is once again, surprisingly not sexy.  At least she's completely hairless, so ripping that off later will only mostly hurt instead of completely hurt.  000 barely has body hair and still _hates_ duct tape.

"I feel as if I should fashion together some pants," 100kr suggests, admiring his handiwork and shaking out his hands. They're bright red- 000 clamped down too hard.

"Yeah, forget that and get me out of this!" 000 demands, still squirming and trying to bust through the lingerie, "When in the fucking hell did you break lose?"

"Well, I was able to free my hands almost as soon as the administrator left.  They did not tie particularly good knots," his partner admits, hesitantly removing the g-string still affixing the chair to his leg, "But then you did not seem particularly apt to... release me, so I could not complete the rest until you began arguing with the lovely dancer girl."

_Fuckall._

100kr hadn't been squirming around out of panic.  He'd been breaking himself out.  000 literally just held his partner's hands for the better part of twenty minutes for absolutely no reason, besides a _major_ lapse in judgement.  

000 is going to hang himself on the shower curtain rod back at the hotel if they make it out of this alive.

He flushes bright red.  "Why didn't you say something sooner?"

"Well, I did... just in Alolan, because my first strategy failed and by that point the lovely dancer grunt person was pointing my gun at you and I assumed it would be quite obvious that I'd released myself.  Except that perhaps I did not recall the proper translation for 'let go of my hand' in Alolan."

"You weren't even close," 000 grumbles, still humiliated.  'Hand' and 'fish' aren't remotely similar words in Alolan. "Do I even want to know what your first plan was?"

100kr winces, wringing his bruised hands nervously, "I was hoping if I could upset lightly you for a moment you would perhaps let go of your own accord.  Perhaps to attempt to hit me?  I assumed you would have preferred to slap me. You did not, you tried to break my fingers."  He forces a smile.

000's jaw drops at the unfathomable stupidity of his partner.  He can't even form words.

_That... that was not a good plan.  KR is banned from making plans, forever. Officially._

"Why do every single one of your plans involve upsetting me?" 000 settles on, embarrassment now straight infuriation.  100kr, once again, doesn't realize what nerve he struck.  This time, it's less 000's nonsensical attraction to the idiot and more 000's mild inferiority complex stemming from eight years as the world's most ill-qualified trial captain in a podunk region where your only hope for a future required a Kahuna handing it to you.

"It was not a good plan, obviously since it did not work.  I panicked a little as well! Considering you are usually so standoffish and have never once intentionally made physical contact with me, I assumed you were exceptionally scared and the escape would be left up to me," 100kr explains, forcing 000 further into the realm of 'deeply fucking humiliated'.  "I did not expect this!  I am not good at plans, especially on short notice, we've established this several times in the past, most recently last night."

"I did that so you wouldn't be scared, fool," 000 groans, even though he's full of shit.  He was terrified (he's still terrified, for that matter) and he needed his brain to turn off for a minute.

100kr stares at him as if the agent just sprouted a second head.   "Why would I be scared?  This is our second time being held hostage in the last twenty-four hours.  Admittedly, the environment here makes for a reasonably challenging situation, but if anything, I thought we were becoming quite experienced with this sort of scenario."

"Your idea was still fucking _terrible_ ," 000 criticizes lamely, evading the particular subject at hand... to another subject he actually didn't want to discuss either. "And you call that _'lightly'_?"

_Well, so much for dropping this.  Open mouth, insert foot, 000._

"I meant to upset you slightly less than that!  I ran out of points that would be... wholly appropriate all things considered," 100kr fumbles with his words, "and perhaps started to panic quite a good deal as we have no reasonable judgement of our time frame and this is quite a stressful matter.  I very much did not want to stoop to using that example! Ever!"

"You of all people threw the one match in training that counted!" 000 snaps, before reminding himself that he needs to calm down and drop the subject.  100kr is exactly _rushing_ to untie him while he babbles.

The match didn't _really_ count for anything, but it mattered to 000 at the time and it more or less changed the course of his career.  He would be a desk agent in a regional branch otherwise... well, correction, 000 would have become bored, found trouble, and been sent back to Alola.

000 decidedly doesn't want to drop the subject.

"It was not exactly most honest decision I have ever made admittedly, quite possibly the most dishonest act I have ever committed, and I have spent a good deal of time awake at night deliberating the matter," 100kr attempts to defend himself, "But, I was deeply worried that if I had fought fairly I would never see you again.  And I knew you wanted Global as well so it seemed to be a reasonable tradeoff if only little distasteful and perhaps entirely disrespectful to you.  I was never going to tell you this, ever, especially not here!"

"But you're not sorry," 000 points out.  Three years is a long time together- he knows how to read his partner's babbling.

"I am not and will not be, as you are also in Global," 100kr states firmly, crossing his arms.  That fucking goody-goody rule-following son-of-a-motherfucking-bitch is legitimately content with his sneaky little tactic two years ago.  000 can't decide whether to be mad or bewildered, but he's going with mad.  "I am sorry about the part where you discovered this.  And if it is any consolation to you, I firmly believe you are a reasonable fighter and would have easily won all of the sparring matches had I not also been a contender."

_Don't be too humble, you piece of shit._

"I'm still going to kick your ass."

"Yes, but we will have to live through this first.  And in order to do that, you will need to forgive me so I can untie you."  

No wonder he hasn't made any motion to get on with that.  000 is just sitting stupidly, tied onto a folding chair with thongs and bras and the Tapu only knows what else, while his partner babbles to his heart's content with probably broken fingers.

"I'm not forgiving someone who isn't sorry, KR," he glares at 100kr, hoping the man might at least be intimidated into releasing him.  Mostly so 000 can punch him in the throat and prove who's the better fighter.

100kr knows his partner better than that, apparently.  Three years is a long time.  "Until I can be reasonably assured you won't knock me out immediately..."

000 groans.  May as well forgive the fool _again_ , because 000 won't own up to this either and they are currently burning escape time. And 000's mental capacity for escape plans.   "Okay, I won't hit you.  We're still rematching after this is over."

"Well, I feel as if we should consider the matter as completely even and settled because I did just save us both."

000 scowls.  "Don't go for broke."

"I am the one standing here with two free hands and a lockpick set." He shakes out his bruised hands again to prove the point.

"Fine, I forgive you!  Now get me the fuck out of this shit!" So they can escape Team Rocket and 000 can hang himself on a shower curtain rod afterwards.  Thank the Tapu 100kr will probably sit on the hand-holding issue until 000 least expects it.  Probably in the middle of a gunfight, knowing his partner, but that's still better than right now.  If he says anything about it now, 000 will be apt to knock out a few teeth, promises be damned.

For the sake of all four Tapus though, most much dumber could 000 have been? 100kr had a plan and was in the process of executing it, and 000 stuck his foot in it (or his hands, more accurately). While 100kr's plans are bad, 000's impulses aren't much better.  He's an _idiot_.  

The match-throwing isn't helping this feeling in the slightest.

100kr cracks the largest smile 000's has ever seen on him and ruffles the other man's hair before disappearing behind him to get the handcuffs off. "Just give me thirty seconds!"

000's blood pressure shoots through the roof, "The hell was that?"

"I have _always_ wanted to do that," his partner responds cheerfully as he fumbles with his tension wrench, "And you promised not to hit me."

100kr plays dirtier than 000 ever gave him credit for, even if his end goals are rarely reasonable.

From her position on the floor, Christine just rolls her eyes.  Thankfully, she hasn't even tried to scream yet.  Team Rocket apparently doesn't pay well enough to risk getting shot.  Maybe she'll give them a suggestion for an escape route.

Eventually both cuffs come off with a click, forcing 000 to withhold the urge to slug his partner.  100kr manages to snap the lingerie holding 000's torso to the chair and both agents untie his legs.  He shoots up once he's completely free, knocking the chair into Christine in the process.  Fuck it, they're escaping anyway.  "Okay, let's get the fuck out of here."

Why can 000 not wind up with easy recon missions?  When ZZ001 staked out the game corner in Celadon for two months, he drank and played pachinko the entire time.  When 000 and 100kr go on recon, they're facing death.

"You left the pager in your hotel room, did you not?" 100kr says with a sigh as they pack their shit back into their pockets.  Team Rocket needs a 'lessons learned' regarding not to leaving their hostage's shit in the vicinity.  000 and 100kr are two for two on collecting belongings.  Hell, Persian's even here, even if she's a lifeless lump in her ball right now.  000 figured they would want to keep a "shiny".

"Yup, since you shuffled me out a fucking hurry," 000 reminds him as he flips through the drawers looking for _anything_ that might be a revive for Persian.  Despite the fact that all the girls are trainers, they're only filled with makeup, lingerie, and hair crap.  000 would _gladly_ trade his smoking habit for his z-ring and a less fainted Persian right now.  Black Hole Eclipse could steamroller the entire club.  Unfortunately, even the IP couldn't get customs approval for his z-ring and any Elite Four would have him in a supermax after he executed it.

"You should have woken earlier."

"We actually should not argue this," 000 grumbles, slamming a vanity drawer in frustration.  Time to conjure an escape plan that does _not_ involve her.  "They wouldn't come fast enough anyway and you know it.  We need to come up with something right now that doesn't involve a gunfight in a hallway.  I don't want to stick around until they notice us."

_Work with what's available,_ 000 decides with a prolonged sigh, _that's the first rule of team leadership.  We've got a shit-ton of lingerie, some tape, Croagunk, and a hog-tied stripper._

Tactics class didn't review an example with these sorts of assets, probably since agents are typically written off the org chart by the time they find themselves this fucked.  The official lectures on hostage situations covered window escapes, paying off hostiles, and de-escalating the situation.  Given the general status of Christine, the latter certainly isn't an option and Team Rocket probably doesn't want the collective three hundred cash 000 and 100kr are carrying.  They did, after all, leave 000's lighter again.  Nobody reasonable fucking _leaves_ a perfectly good lighter.

Ambushing the returning grunts might seem realistic, but 000 and 100kr could find themselves outnumbered before they can blink.  000 doesn't particularly want to be on the defensive faster than necessary.  Bullet count is finite and Croagunk won't stand a chance with all the psychic types.

"Perhaps if we had Croagunk put poison gas in the air conditioner vent-" 100kr starts to theorize aimlessly, releasing Croagunk.  The pokemon hugs 100kr's leg immediately, deducing the general clusterfuck level of their situation.

"It would blow back on us, because that's an output duct and not an intake duct," 000 cuts him off, though poison gas is an option.  He hates using that move indoors, since it tends to backfire on him, but he has sandwich in his stomach to throw up so it won't be terrible.  "We could do that in the hallway though while we hide in here."

That takes care of the main backstage hallway.  That's step one.  Step two is the utility hallway, and step three is the stairwell.  The streets are a different matter, but after that they can break for the main drag.

"Croagunk, poison gas to clear the backstage hallway.  We'll give it a minute or so and then bust out of here.  Do it again at the utility hallway and KR, you shoot out the stairwell," 000 explains.  He's flying by the seat of his pants, but they collectively ate enough of their time already for stupid reasons.  "And realistically, any stragglers that don't take to the poison gas.  Croagunk, hit whatever moves with venoshock and mud bomb behind us on the stairs.  If it's slick they'll be less motivated to come at us full speed.  After that, we run like the bitches we are."

000 stares down 100kr to drive the point in, praying he doesn't dinner plate eye at the lack of objective completing.  They can't capture an Admin tonight.  They might not capture an Admin ever and may have blown the mission objective entirely. If Admin Cyndi has more than two braincells to rub together, she'll withdraw the whole Lumiose operation as soon as the two agents evacuate.

000 would like to reserve his own right to hang himself on the shower curtain rod later though, the IP and Team Rocket be damned.  He's about to be out of a job and 100kr is going to hate him forever for it. But at least they'll both live through the experience.

"I agree. Though we should then leave the city immediately and come up with a new plan," 100kr suggests, checking his bullets.  Hopefully he reloaded at the hotel.  "I think that would be the most appropriate course of action."

_Don't argue this you son of a bitch.  I don't have a plan to capture an Admin tonight.  Hell, I couldn't even get a fucking picture of her before she stomped us._

"I actually think we ought to call an extraction," 000 definitely doesn't want to say those words, but they are in _way_ over their heads.  Even if they safely reach the hotel, Team Rocket will give chase.  The Chief be damned.  000 would rather go back to Alola then accidentally kill his partner over this mission.  He's not even ashamed to admit that to himself right now.

100kr scowls, pointing to Christine.

_Ah shit, forgot about her._

000 covers his mouth.  He didn't realize his partner was going for 'obvious fucking diversion that nobody would believe anyway'.  Team Rocket will untie her eventually, probably best Team Rocket can't guess where they'll be headed.  Which in 000's case, is back to Alola.

"Good point.  We'll.... talk about it when we're out," 000 pulls his .22 from the holster, even though it's iffy that he'll even attempt to operate it.  He'd be pretty apt to shoot 100kr instead.  000 can't shoot for shit.  "Ready partner?"

100kr nods, moving to the door and staring at his watch.  "These songs play for rough six minutes each, what is your best estimation for starting time?"

"Five fifty-seven," 000 decides quickly.  That might hit some of the dancers heading to the stage as well.  A mass club exodus in disgust would help them.

"Fourteen seconds then," 100kr looks down at Croagunk, hand on the doorknob.

000 points his pistol at Christine, just for good measure, "You do anything and I'll shoot your guts out."

She whimpers.  Team Rocket probably doesn't pay enough to worth being shot.  The IP definitely doesn't.

Fourteen seconds winds up being enough time to appreciate 100kr's ass again.   It helps the agent is much cuter when he's serious.  It's almost cute enough to distract 000 from the fact that he just held hands with the man for _no fucking good reason like the dumbass he is._

_You can hang yourself later, 000.  Fucking pay attention._

At thirteen seconds later, on the dot, 100kr cracks the door and nudges Croagunk towards the opening.  At fourteen seconds later, Croagunk spews as much purple gas into the hall as the little thing can muster up at once.  By sixteen seconds, 100kr has the door shut again.

And by seventeen seconds, both agents can hear a bunch of girls cry out in pain and begin to vomit.

"Give it a minute, I don't want to get hit with it," 000 says, joining 100kr at the door.  He already had a bad experience with venoshock once.  He doesn't need to repeat Mt. Moon with poison gas.

_Quarter inch_.

100kr presses his ear to the door and listens, "I think they are attempting to reach a restroom."

"Another couple seconds," 000 orders, praying that the poison gas dissipated.  "Be ready to run, Croagunk."

He's got stumpy little legs, but he can probably bounce down a few hallways.

"I cannot hear anyone... not being sick," 100kr says with a shrug, "Shall we?"

"After you," 000 says with a grin, "You do have the better shot."

_Please let us fucking live, Tapu Bulu.  I will be a less shitty person from now on..._

Realistically, 000 doesn't have much to pray with.  He's not willing to give much else up.  Somehow, he doesn't believe Tapu Bulu gives much of a damn about the cigarettes or the drinking anyway.

The two agents spill into the hallway, moving full speed at the door to the utility hallway.  Just as planned, six dancers and about four bouncers wretch on their knees, clutching their stomachs.  000 leaps straight overhead of a green-haired stripper grunt, rushing for the door.  Croagunk hits her with venoshock just as he does, before turning and mud bombing the entire hallway.   _Several_ of them scream, though it's quickly followed by the sound of puking and 000 tries not to turn and watch.  Poison sucks.  He knows firsthand.

"That actually worked, holy shit," 000 exclaims as he skids to a halt at the door, 100kr just behind him.

_Inch._

000 spoke a little too soon.  The door wrenches open, a rather frantic bouncer on the other side attempting to respond to the screams.  000 kicks the man as hard as he can in the groin and he drops to the floor just in time for a venoshock from Croagunk.  

"New plan, no poison gas," 000 decides as he shuts the door again and holds it closed.  They can't poison gas the hallway and still make a break for it, not with the way 000 handles poison, "We're just gonna fucking run."

"I will go first again," 100kr decides, busting through the door and smacking the bouncer with it as he does.

Fuck it, 100kr has the better shot. This probably won't kill him sooner than 000 can prevent it.  Croagunk follows, leaving 000 to kick the less than recovering bouncer in the head for good measure and bolt after them.  100kr charges for the stairwell at the other end, almost haphazardly.

Admin Cyndi bursts through the doors of the club's floor, looking ready to murder.  Almost instinctively, 100kr drop slides.  He's aiming for her ankles, most likely, but misses spectacularly and collides with the stairwell door ten feet away.  000 and Croagunk stop dead, 000 aiming his .22 as if he could actually hit her without risking murdering his partner instead.  It's the bluff that counts.

_Fifteen feet... probably more like sixteen._

100kr jumps to standing and does the same.  "Hands in the air, criminal!"

"Drop the guns, boys," she releases Medicham again, "You're hosed."

"Three on two," 000 reminds her with a grin, "Better reball."

The door to the dungeon on the backstage end of the hall opens.  000 glances of his shoulder- the resident dominatrix (Mistress Emily? Emmeline?), leather thigh highs and all, wanders out with a pile of rope in her hands, probably on her way to better restrain the two IP agents.  Upon seeing the commotion in the hallway, she drops it and pulls a pokeball out of her corset.

_Why is my luck not this good?   I had to be from the island with the world's LAZIEST god.  My luck is NEVER this good._

Mistress Emmeline releases an Umbreon, which 000 tries his hardest not to laugh at considering he can't think of more of a stereotype.  Maybe a misdreavus? The more 000 thinks on it, the more he's surprised he hasn't seen a jynx in this club.  He figured strippers would like jynx.  That's for the better really, Croagunk would have trouble against a jynx too.

Granted, he shouldn't laugh at all because 000 does find umbreon really, really cool.  He could have one already if he wasn't 100% certain Persian would jealously try to eat it.  One of these days he might talk 100kr into 'training' one.  100kr could use a second.

Medicham reels, in preparation for attack.

"Fire and one of us will knock the short one and the frog out of the park," Cyndi snarls, "Now, drop the guns."

"Why is always me?" 000 groans, trying to decide if he _could_ shoot the admin.  100kr is just standing like an unrepentant dumbass, looking between Cyndi, Medicham, and 000 and Croagunk, and probably deciding which target provides the best chance of the latter two's survival.  He's even holding his gun a little crooked still, not taking aim yet.

_Wait, that isn't intentional,_ 000 realizes with a gulp.  100kr probably can't get past his fucking ridiculous trigger pull with his bruised (and probably broken) fingers, not with the aim requisite to _not_ shoot 000 or Croagunk. Right now his shot is probably as good at 000's.  He's trying to bluff this out until 000 conjures a better idea.

_Great fucking job 000, great job.  Take out the best offense you had because you don't even have half an ounce of self-control._

By the Tapu, he's going to hang himself on the shower curtain rod after this.

This standoff is effectively one _giant_ bluff, and turning into a substantially larger bluff with every second 000 doesn't do anything.  Ordering 100kr to run like a bitch and call in the cavalry is the IP-sanctioned appropriate course of action in this situation- two sets of hostiles, no chance of outfighting both of them, and one agent with a clean getaway route.  100kr won't make a getaway, because he won't leave without Croagunk, but the _idea_ of executing a plan per IP standards and training seems nice nonetheless.  

The second IP-sanctioned appropriate course of action is for one of them to sacrifice themselves, here meaning 000 because there isn't a world where he could allow that for 100kr or Croagunk.  Unfortunately, 000 would rather have the honor of hanging himself on the shower curtain rod later tonight.  Double unfortunately, every second their bluff continues he's at risk of 100kr taking up the role instead.  100kr can be a fool like that, but he's going home alive if it's the last damn thing 000 ever does.

Mistress Emmeline and her umbreon begin walking up the hallway, towards 000 and Croagunk.  Umbreon gears up for some sort of attack, probably bite or night shade, though 000 can't quite tell if it's targeting himself, Croagunk, or neither. Umbreon would be the more tempting target _if_ Croagunk knew any fighting moves (he doesn't, that's intentional on 000's part).  Emmeline is potentially putting her umbreon up as a sacrifice so Medicham can return with zen headbutt or confusion or any of the other potential moves that could flatten Croagunk.  Alternatively, Umbreon can switch and blast 000 if he or 100kr shoot at Cyndi first.  In any other situation, 000 would find this an interesting chess match (he does enjoy chess, but realistically only when _he_ has the most pieces). 

"Come on boys, put the guns down," Cyndi tells them again.  Clearly Team Rocket has the terrible hostage negotiation lessons the IP uses. If a handle of gin can't de-escalate 000, a Rocket Administrator threatening to torture 100kr certainly won't have any luck either. "We're all better than a shootout in a public hallway."

"No we aren't, we're the fucking International Police," 000 scoffs with a grin. "Croagunk, SUCKER PUNCH!"

He turns and shoots blindly down the hallway at Emmeline instead. As Croagunk knocks Medicham square on, the terrible music finally cuts off and screaming patrons bust through the door to the hallway.  Umbreon hits a few unlucky ones with night shade as they mass panic between it and 000.

000 likes chess better when he has more pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to cliffhanger it again. The last scene got out of hand and so did this one...
> 
> For anyone that didn't know, the trigger pull weight is literally the pressure it takes to pull the trigger on a gun. It's intentionally set to a certain weight. 12lb is quite a bit- my buddy has a gun with a 12lb trigger and I couldn't set it off without risking dropping the damn thing. Average home handgun is around 5ish lb. Typically lighter pull makes for better aim, but higher pull weight is presumed to make it harder to set off on accident (granted, not true at all, a person can twitch with like 20lbs of pressure... finger OFF the fucking trigger, kids). In my understanding anyway, I am not a gun person. I just work with a lot of them and occasionally glean something useful.
> 
> Also, people en masse are stupid and do absolutely run towards the source of danger. Hell, I've done it twice to date (luckily the 'danger' turned out to be nonexistent, but the point stands).
> 
> Headcannon: Croagunk takes orders from both his dads equally. Persian is more apt to listen to Looker, which Nanu is forever a little sore about (in all fairness to Persian- Looker has treats, Nanu just has expectations).
> 
> Also headcanon: Looker might know martial arts, but Nanu fights like he just got jumped in Bankhead after midnight- it's all crotch shots, throat punches, and broken noses. Dark type is 'evil' type in some translations.


	12. KsLuC-0957:11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr unfuck this clusterfuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Violence (particularly out of 000), some more vomit and mention of blood. Legitimate injuries to hostiles. Gun use. The Chief's mouth and 000's brain.

At least a quarter of any unconstrained crowd of the general public will be unrepentantly dumb enough to run  _ towards _ gunfire, and a quarter of the mass hysteria is all 000 realistically needs.  Medicham flies into 100kr with the sucker punch from Croagunk, knocking him over and sending his pistol flying from his bad grip.  The resulting stampede of idiots trying to evade the hallway danger prevents the pokemon from recovering and attacking his partner.  The stampede also knocks around Admin Cyndi, sending her to the floor as she's unable to balance on four inch heels while greasy and terrified old men rush past.

"CROAGUNK, MUD BOMB MEDICHAM!" 000 yells, ears ringing, just as 100kr can scramble out from underneath the other pokemon and dive for the .45 as it's kicked into a corner.  The damned thing is going to go off, 000 can just fucking  _ feel  _ it.

"LOCK THAT DOOR!" Cyndi yells, scrambling for 100kr's gun herself.  A few members of the stampede accidentally kick her as she does.  Another few do-gooders attempt to help her off the floor, slowing down her frantic scramble as she boxes at their faces. 000 feels a little pity for them. They're only trying to help and one now has a bloody nose

A rather  _ heroic _ patron attempts to swing at 000, with an adrenaline rush over the protection of his entertainment.  000 ducks the sloppy punch and responds with a kick in the crotch and then a second in the face.  He can't stomach heroes. 

100kr has the same civilian issue, 000 notices as 100kr grunts in mild pain.   Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as his partner swipes a patron's legs out from under them and continues to scramble for his gun.  The two really ought to discuss mass hysteria procedures in the after-action review.  000 thrives on a little chaos, but he's fairly certain 100kr has been slightly trampled.  He'll live.  It's not as if 000 had time to talk through this earlier.

"UMBREON, NIGHT SHADE!"

Several unlucky, panicking club goers absorb another blast of nightshade as 000 throws himself out of the way.  The few who evade shove back through their original exit, slightly wiser to the source the danger.  Mistress Emmeline kicks the nightshaded stragglers with them as they grasp their heads, before flipping the lock at the top of the door and ending 000's chaos. 

"Venoshock on Umbreon, Croagunk!" 000 yells, ducking to the floor as venoshock flies over his head.  Once hit was enough for 000's probably short lifetime, even if Mt. Moon doesn't count.  "Mud bomb to finish him off!"

Mistress Emmeline psychotically charges at 000, who responds with another missed bullet.  He's going to the shooting range from now on.  100kr always tries to drag him during lunch anyway.  By the fucking Tapu, this shit is embarrassing, that shot was  _ barely  _ more than point blank.

Emmeline swings to hit him, 000 counters by clocking her in the side of his head with his .22 first.  He can't shoot for shit, but blunt force trauma is within his skillset.  She slumps towards the floor, giving 000 the chance to kick her in the face as she does.  His shoes will wind up soaked nose blood at this rate.  Common courtesy probably dictates he clean that off himself before 100kr volunteers to polish them again.

With a glance over his shoulder, 000 notices Medicham threatening to pick itself up off the floor now that the mass hysteria has stumbled out of the hallway and charged down the stairwell (most of nightshaded idiots included- it's actually not terribly hard to function through it after the original migraine explodes in your head).  "Croagunk, sucker punch Medicham!"

He kicks the leftover hero patron again for good measure before spinning around to help 100kr struggle with Cyndi.  They're both on the floor, she's got the butt of his .45 while he's desperately trying to force the barrel away from him and kick, elbow, or knee her at the same time.  His grip probably isn't great, 000 did a number on his fingers earlier.  100kr appears to focus more on that than Cyndi.

_ Whoops. _

000 jumps on her, smacking her in the back of the head with his pistol. Admin Cyndi goes limp.  100kr manages take control of his gun, smacking his arm against the wall as he does.

"Venoshock the grunt and the civilians!" 000 orders as he stands back up, glancing over his shoulder at Umbreon.  It's good and fainted. 

Might as well grab the admin and run, the two certainly won't have a shot in hell otherwise.  Plans be damned, he'll come up with a way to cart her to local PD once they're in the stairwell.  "Grab her, let's go!"

"You only knocked her out with the gun, I believe," 100kr tells him, checking her pulse, "She shall be awake again in a few minutes... hopefully"

"Tape her up then," 000 says over his shoulder as he checks dominatrix grunt, who wretches on her knees.  He did a number on her face, which he feels sort of bad about since that was probably an important part of this career path and all.  He feels a little bad she's about to vomit uncontrollably too.  Venoshock is a  _ bitch _ .  "Stay put you, game's over," he orders as he looms over her.

He feels less bad about the heroic club patron, who's too busy with vomit now that venoshock has kicked in.  That'll teach him to mind his own business.

100kr tapes Admin Cyndi's arms and legs together (tape over the mouth too, not going to make Team Rocket's mistake here) and he and 000 manage to pick her up.  It's a struggle- 000 only has one good shoulder and 100kr doesn't have much of a grip.  They manage to arrange themselves and head into the stairwell, 100kr first in case something needs to be shot.  Croagunk mud bombs the shit out of the stairs behind them and they cart her out, rendering it useless to anyone trying to tail them. 000 has a feeling most of Team Rocket will scatter out less official exits anyway if poisoning didn't totally compromise them.  Someone inevitably called emergency over the gunfire.

"Could perhaps next time you intend to send a pokemon flying at me and then incite a panic among civilians, you give me just the slightest bit of warning?" 100kr requests as they fumble their way down three flights of stairs.

000 rolls his eyes, "I didn't exactly have time to do that, KR."

"Yes I realize that entirely, but in the future, it would be tremendously beneficial."

"How about next time you bust yourself out of a hostage situation, you let me know?"

"Once again, to repeat myself, I did try," 100kr retorts as they try to angle Cyndi around a landing.  

Cyndi starts stir, but she's good and concussed and hopefully won't struggle.  000 decides to just drop her if she starts.  She can hit her head again.  "Your attempt was terrible.  Both of them."

"I already admitted it was not a good plan," 100kr turns and scowls at him to drive the point, nearly missing a step.

"Do I even want to know what confessions made the list of 'not wholly appropriate'?" 000 had intermittently been reviewing that phrasing.  He's honestly not sure what 100kr knows about him that he hasn't already freely or drunkenly divulged.

Aside from that one obvious elephant in the back of 000's brain, but that would have been a  _ thing  _ already.

His partner's ears go red and he focuses on the wall in front of them.  "Nothing.  There was nothing."

"That doesn't sound like a 'nothing'," 000 chuckles.

"Well, I have been using your toothpaste," 100kr admits indifferently, "I did forget that one but there was no adequate time to fully explain that situation in any case."

000 nearly loses his grip on Admin Cyndi and has to stop short to keep her from hitting the floor.  " _ Wait _ , as in the toothpaste from  _ my  _ room?"

As in, the idiot has been picking the lock to his room more often than today's incidents.

"I merely  _ borrowed  _ some on a few occasions," 100kr explains as they keep moving down the half-flight left before exit to the street, "That was how I knew you've been sneaking out, even if you admitted to that freely after the fact."

"I am not  _ sneaking out _ , I am a fucking adult," 000 reminds him sternly, "By the Tapu, I'm  _ allowed _ to leave the hotel without telling you and do what I want."

"It's highly irresponsible, for an entire multitude of reasons. And also a little hurtful that you do not want me going with you," he admits as they reach the bottom of the stairs.  Croagunk squeezes past them to open the door.  "I asked you to go walk around the city with me every evening the first week and you refused."

Because Lumiose City is the city of fucking lights and romance and all that other bullshit that makes 000's unrepentant attraction to his partner a  _ thousand  _ times more difficult.  In addition, this is their first mission  _ alone _ , in a city with no other IP agents to possibly catch him, and enough booze for 000 to potentially drown his self control. 000 needed time to  _ acclimate _ .

000 isn't about to say any of this, actually.  He's going to divert the subject. 

"If you break into my room again, I will  _ kill  _ you," he threatens, dropping Cyndi onto the alley pavement with a disconcerting thud.   She's heavy, his shoulder hurts, and 100kr's fingers can't be in much better shape.

He needs to nut-up though, they have to deliver Admin Cyndi into custody.  Police sirens blare a few blocks over- the club is due for a police raid any minute now.  Their hotel, a reasonable phone line, and the pager are a good Tapu-damned thirty blocks away.  "We're going to have to move faster.  We can't have poisoned everybody and those police sirens heading this fucking way."

100kr shakes his head.  "I do not believe we can outrun anyone  Surely they will search the alley when they arrive and see that the perpetrators of the gunshots have left. This will all look... quite unfortunate for us, really." 

Left to holding up Admin Cyndi himself, 100kr is slowly sinking towards the cobblestone street on top of this.

"Eh, fuck it, let's leave her here."  Lumiose PD can discover her when they pull up and investigate.  That's technically  _ some kind  _ police custody.  The deposit will blow over as long as if the Chief doesn't have to read about two 'rogue Kalos IP agents' caught carting a vaguely conscious stripper around the back alleys.  000 and 100kr can call the Chief and let her work out the details.  There's a whole Liaison division in Global just to cover that for her.   "We'll have Global get in contact with them and then we can avoid being in the alleys entirely."

100kr drops her with a thud.

"You got a marker or something? I'll write a note on her," 000 suggests, so Lumiose PD doesn't totally scratch their heads.

"Markers I forgot to pack," 100kr shrugs, "I believe you had a ballpoint pen."

_ Close. Enough. _

000 manages to scrawl out "Team Rocket Administrator Cyndi, call Kalos IP office" on her stomach, though she begins to squirm.  His handwriting is  _ mostly  _ legible.  100kr grabs the pen from his hand and neatly adds "Potential concussion, medical attention required".

100kr helps 000 drag her to the road intersection at entrance of the alley, where they leave her as the first Lumiose PD cars pull up amid a sea terrified, ill, and confused club patrons.  000 snaps a picture of her, getting the police cruiser in the background... just in case Lumiose PD are taking a cut with the gym's nonsense.  Tonight sucked.  He wants credit for it come hell or high water.

"I do not believe they are paying any attention to the body on the side of the road," 100kr points out as he and 000 watch the scene unfold from behind a dumpster, "That is a little concerning for the general status of the citizens of this city."

"Yeah they don't see her," 000 grumbles, hesitantly moving towards to street for a better look.

"She needs medical attention, they really should not dilly-dally with the noticing."

Fourteen cop cars, an ambulance, and a crowd too stupid to disperse, and nobody sees an unconscious, tied up stripper.  Lumiose City is certainly a  _ place _ .

"HEY PIGS!" 000 belts at the top of his lungs, before turning and running back into the alley, "Let's go, now they see her!"

100kr reballs Croagunk and catches up, "I thought you wanted to remain on the main roads!"

"That was before I called a bunch of local cops 'pigs', KR!" 000 shouts, skidding around a corner, "There's a payphone past the next plaza, we'll call the Chief when we get there!"

As they run like the unrepentant dumbasses they are, suddenly it occurs to 000 that he and 100kr successfully completed their impossible mission objective.  They captured a Team Rocket Administrator and delivered her to police custody.  000 and 100kr won't be getting fired.

_ Holy. _

_ Motherfucking. _

_ Shit. _

"We did it," 000 pants as they run, "We actually did it."

100kr has a smile a mile wide on, "Absolutely."

000 is hard pressed as to whether he wants to stay running next to the man, or hang back a few feet.  His smile is adorable.  His ass also looks nice in jeans.  100kr will be back in slacks before he knows it.

000 trades off between both options for most of their run, confusing his partner enough to ask if he needs a break.

XxXxXxXxX

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU COMPLETED YOUR FUCKING OBJECTIVE?!" the Chief booms into the payphone, which 100kr has to hold three inches away from his ear.  

With the lingering ringing from the indoor gunfire, she's too high of a decibel level for safe hearing.  000 can hear her fine without the screaming. Granted, that's partially because they're smashed together in the phone booth, with 000 awkwardly cuddling against 100kr.  There isn't technically room for two people.

_ Fucking zero,  _ 000 thinks to himself with a nearly audible grumble.  He forgot how much leftover adrenaline he has after missions.  ZZ001's first words of advice on the nature of the job after training school were "eventually you just get off on the danger and you don't care about being scared shitless anymore."  Turns out he didn't exactly need the 'eventually' part of that.  000 is fucking  _ wired _ .  100kr is the _ last _ person he needs to be crammed against right now, because 000 doesn't really have any self control and he's not really in the mood to muster any.  

Seriously why is there not more room in this phone booth?  Does nobody else in Lumiose City need to make a conference call on a public payphone?  It can't just be them.

"We delivered a Rocket Admin into police custody," 100kr explains into the phone, "We even have a photo if the local police department tries to negate our story."

"I-  _ WHAT _ ?!"

"So you can take your dismissal and shove it up your ass-" 000 attempts to add as 100kr's hand clamps over his mouth.

_ When did we get this idea that touching is okay?!  THIS IS NOT OKAY!  
_

"TELL ZEROES I CAN HEAR HIM."

His hand doesn't feel broken anyway, that's sort of a relief.  Granted, his fingers would have started to swell by now.  Instead, 100kr's grip is certainly back.

"Zeroes, please..."

000 rips his partner's hand off, lest he succumb to the impulse to lick it.  That's going to be a slippery slope to a humiliating lack of explanations.  000 doesn't have the patience for that conversation. Fuck being done with missions. 

100kr rests his arm on 000's shoulder instead, lackadaisically practicing gripping with his bruised fingers.  000 debates flipping out. He doesn't remember  _ ever _ agreeing to function as an armrest, much less let his partner intentionally remain in contact.  100kr is an idiot, since he has the payphone in his other hand and couldn't repel a smack from 000.  Hell, at this range, 000 could just go on his toes and wind up nose to nose with his partner.

_ He probably still tastes like toothpaste and coffee. _

_ AND EGG SALAD. Back to Earth, 000. _

"Holy mother of fucking  _ Arceus _ , I'm pulling up the police scanner right now," the Chief exclaims on the other end of the phone line, more anxiety than satisfaction in her voice, "You two fucking clowns took in a fucking  _ admin _ ."

"Exactly, as I just said!" 100kr exclaims, "We have fully completed the mission objective designated to us!"

"Fuck, I'll direct call Kalos and make sure they get in this.  Ugh, those fuckers aren't going to be happy we bagged her without their input," she groans.

"Maybe they should stop giving shitty input.  The whole strip club is Team Rocket, they're going to need backup," 000 reports, trying edge himself away from 100kr's arm.  No can do, 000's hip would find itself smashed smack against the man's crotch.  That's an impending disaster if 000 heard of one.  "At least two dozen armed grunts, just tonight."

"I'll pass that along," the Chief grumbles, "You two idiots lay low for a bit until we can get a fucking city sweep.  Check in again when you submit the fucking evening report."

"No post-mission debrief?" 100kr asks, "Or follow-up orders?"

"I didn't fucking think you'd pull it the fuck off, so no, I've got  _ jack shit _ for you assholes! Go lay low, don't let Zeroes drink himself silly!" she barks, "I'll have a follow-up for you by the time you fucking give me a daily report!"

"So, never? I'm going to live the rest of my life as a hobo in Ka-" And there's 100kr's hand again, cutting off his sarcasm.

"Zeroes,  _ please _ ."

Somewhere in Saffron City, the Chief's blood pressure steadily rises to 'impending medical emergency', "You better right one, you little fuck!  Just because I'm not dismissing you doesn't mean you're standing on  _ thin fucking ice  _ over last night!  You should fucking come  _ see  _ the stack of fucking paperwork I have over that bullet count right now!"

"I will  _ lick  _ you if you do that again," 000 seethes at his partner.  May as well warn the bastard, 000's self control is slipping by the second.

100kr shrugs and rests his arm back on 000's shoulder.  "Unadvisable, you have no knowledge of when I last washed my hands."

"What the flying fuck are you two  _ doing _ over there?!" the Chief barks, "I'm a mandatory fucking reporter per that sexual harassment training, don't make me actually follow that HR bullshit!"

They both wince, going bright red.

"Kalos branch is going to fucking riot," the Chief complains, returning to her original subject, "This will take all fucking night.  I  _ hate  _ when both of you are fucking competent, I swear to Arceus."

"I love you too, Chief," 000 quips.

100kr turns a deeper red, but at least doesn't try to cover his mouth again.  " _ Zeroes. _ "

" _ WHAT _ did I  _ just  _ say about sexual harassment training!  It's barely been a quarter and between you, Spot, and Aspirin, we're all going to wind up with a fucking refresher training before the year is up!  Central records all these calls!"

"I never attended the training in the first place," 100kr points out, "I am actually rather concerned about scheduling that, as there has been no posting-"

"Motormouth, if you sexually harass anybody, I will be impressed enough to give you a  _ promotion. _ "

So much for Central not giving them refresher training.  Where the hell is MC822?  He usually intervenes by now.  This is literally the only reason to keep MC822 around.

100kr frowns.  He probably still feels the need to attend, 000 realizes.  He actually attends all his bullshit trainings, unlike most of the global agents who just pay 000 to forge signatures on the sign-in sheets.  000 realistically only goes because that burned-down Pokemart sure as shit didn't pay for itself and neither does his cheese-puff-and-beer diet.

"I'll sign you off on it when you fucking get back here, just remind me after debrief," she informs him, "And Zeroes, fill out your leadership competency paperwork and I'll sign that shit while I'm at it."

"Hell yes!" 

"Fuck it, I'll give you two, since after your fuckery last night there's no way I'm letting you take fucking lead on another mission this year."

Close enough, he'll take what he can get anyway.  That'll wrap him up for the year and he can headstart his procrastination of next year's competencies.  Or he could be a less shitty agent from now on, one of the two.

"I feel that it is a little dishonest to sign off on a training I have not physically attended."

The Chief groans.  000 wants to point out that it doesn't matter, they're getting a refresher at this rate anyway, but ultimately decides against it.  He  _ will  _ lick 100kr if that hand appears anywhere  _ near  _ his mouth again.  And if 000 is going to get caught doing something worth a Sinnoh division transfer, sex with his partner will at least be involved somewhere in the equation.

_ Focus you dipshit. _

There's nothing else to focus on.  Their objective is complete.  They aren't fired.  000 just needs a Tapu-damned cigarette, a handle of grain alcohol, and a cold shower.

"Anyway, good fucking job," the Chief finishes up with, ignoring 100kr's moral center, "Lay low, I'll call you dumbshits in a few hours."

She hangs up and 000 spills out of the phonebooth, decidedly done with awkwardly brushing against his partner.  His head is spinning.  Time for a hot date with a bottle of liquor and all the pay-per-view pornography the hotel can bill back to the IP.

Ah, well, shit.  He needs to revive Persian first before she slits her trainer's throat.  She's already bound to be furious over being knocked out hours ago.  If 000 wastes time reviving her, she'll kill him.

"Pokemon Center?" 000 asks, shaking Persian's pokeball.

100kr struggles to shut the door to the phone booth.  Years of public use and tragedy of the commons have insured that its track has been dinged beyond reason.  It won't shut all the way, so he winds up inspecting the hinges.  "This sounds like a reasonable course of action.  Would you like to attend dinner with me afterwards?"

000 should probably eat something besides snacks tonight.  Those sandwiches were hours ago.  "Yeah sure, there's a kebab stand a couple blocks from the hotel."

100kr frowns, still struggling with the phone booth, "I meant a real dinner."

000 digs his cigarettes out of his pockets and lights one.  He debates lighting two, since he really wants two.  That would probably make his partner concerned though. "KR, it's _two_ in the morning."    


"Lumiose City is quite a busy place, we can find a respectable eatery somewhere."  100kr drops to one knee to survey the damage on the track.  000 resists the urge to drag him out of the dirt.

"And we're both gross.  I need a shower.  And I need to revive Persian.  And I probably need to get cheese puffs and more liquor before that so she won't kill me."

"What is the liquor for?"

"For me, I'm out."

"You haven't had enough water to be drinking."  Back to looking at the hinges.

"By the Tapu,  _ mother,  _ I am an  _ adult _ ," 000 groans, slamming the phone booth door shut, "I will buy more juice or something if it will make you happy."

_ Four inches. _

"Okay.  But if we see a restaurant that is still accepting business at this hour, we shall stop and have a real dinner," 100kr insists, crossing his arms.

000 lights his second cigarette before stomping on the butt of the first and scanning for a trash can.  "Yeah, okay, whatever. Real dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to point out that this fic is now LONGER than Conrad's Heart of Darkness. So I'm one step closer to my life goal of becoming Joseph Conrad (and like, twenty steps back because this is Pokemon fanfiction, but we'll ignore that).
> 
> The sexual harassment conversation is, no lie, nearly word for word from a work convo (with some obvious details changed). I can't tell if I'm glad that I'm changing jobs next week. IP-era Nanu is partially based on my soon-to-be-not supervisor so it's a little disappointing.
> 
> I couldn't figure out what the attack "night shade" would actually fucking do, so it's like a temporary overpowering migraine for purposes of the three lines I needed it for. Japanese translation is 'night head', so I guess that's accurate? That's not really in the realm of things I'd associate with 'night head' but I have a feeling the localization team is prepared for this sort of phrasing. Sometimes (I'm still surprised they got away with Nanu's "what a good little girl/boy you are", even if they intended to imply he's a bit of a creep).


	13. KsLuC-0957:12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 and 100kr have a disappointing dinner and 000 fails to cope with the emotional bottom of completed mission objectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: If you live in a place without doner kebab, like I have to, this chapter is just cruel and unusual torture. Also: smoking, threats of suicide via shower curtain rod, and 000 being an honest to god asshole.

Persian showed her vast appreciation for the prompt revival by breaking out of her pokeball while still in the fucking Center and pinning 000 to the floor.  100kr had to goad her off with a handful of cheesepuffs, while Croagunk munched his way through the rest of the bag they purchased at the liquor store with vodka and 'juice' (pinap berry drink mix... close enough).  Luckily, the inconsiderate cat tends to cooperate with 100kr, so 000 didn't earn any more scratches in his face.  The scabs from last night were just starting to heal.  Plus, while 000 occasionally considers how cool a facial scar would make him look, a scar from his own pokemon falls staunchly in the category of "mildly fucking pathetic."

100kr tried to help him off the floor afterwards, which 000 stupidly cooperated with and subsequently put himself in a mood over.  100kr went for a combination "lift up by armpits", "place delicately back on feet", and "dust off", which was entirely too much human contact for 000's brain to handle.  His bad shoulder took a real fucking hard hit, though, and his arm was threatening to go numb.  Plus, 100kr looked concerned.  000 can't handle the nervous dinner-plate eyes, especially not with completed mission objectives.  He couldn't have snapped at his partner for all the money in the world.  Dragging the agent onto the floor alongside him, absolutely, but 000 managed to muster the shredded remains of his self-control and left 100kr standing.

100kr also managed to sad eyes 000 into taking the long way to the hotel so they could scan for restaurants, to the point where Persian tired of walking demanded to be _back_ in her pokeball.  Lazy fucking cat (in all fairness, Croagunk had already fallen asleep in a cheesepuff induced haze).  In the end, 000 still stopped at a different kebab stand, ignoring 100kr's objections regarding investigation of the potential of the next few blocks.

Kebabs are food. 100kr wants dinner.  000 wants to go drink off this mission in a hotel room.

“Kebabs are a compromise, KR,” 000 reminds him again as they wait next to the stand for their food.

100kr still looks a little dejected, even if he consciously agrees that _nothing is fucking open, let's eat while we still have kebab stands._ He _really_ fucking wanted a sit down dinner at 0300 for the Tapu only fucking knows what reason. 100kr is clearly out of his fucking mind and 000 isn't about to walk in circles for another hour for him.  Not when he's wearing jeans and all 000 can think about the kiss last night (and the handholding, and 100kr's arm on his shoulder... and everything else realistically).   000 needs alcohol, since sucking down two cigarettes on the walk over didn't help him.

“We probably could have at least gotten sushi," he still protests, putting his wallet back in his pocket.

“It’s _late_ , KR," 000 attempts to reason, tempted to swig out of the vodka bottle on the street as they wait for their sandwich-wrap-things.  100kr tends to lose his shit whenever 000 does that, however.  000 doesn't have the self-control to deal with that respectfully either, but that will end less in thoughtless PDA and more in a public argument. "We can get sushi tomorrow.”

“It would be better tonight.  And you will forget, just as you tend to when you promise things.”  This is true, 000 will probably forget.  100kr will probably forget as well.  Tomorrow will be kebabs again.  Or burgers.  Or something else within 000's budget.  As they walked around the city, 000 quickly realized the status of his bank account is currently unknown.  He can't exactly afford to overdraft in a foreign region.

“I _promise_ I will get sushi with you tomorrow.  Is that enough for you?” 000 grumbles as the shopkeeper hands him the kebab 100kr paid for.  000 would have rejected the offer, but he's _seriously_ worried about his funds the more he mentally tallies the week's expenditures.  He _should_ have enough to buy cigarettes for the next few days, but food will be questionable.

"I will remind you," 100kr sighs as takes his kebab from the shopkeeper, thanking him in Kalosian.

"That's fair.  It's _late_ ," 000 reminds his partner, as if repeating the point has any added effect.

They eat while sitting atop of a plastic picnic table near the kebab stand, watching drunken passersby and taking turns swigging from the drink mix bottle.  100kr eats so rapidly he nearly chokes on a tomato.  His coffeemaker egg salad diet isn't doing much for him, clearly.

_Eight inches._

_And a mission done and over with._

Now that 000 doesn't have a mission to focus on instead, he's just left drowning in a confusing flood of emotions, neuroticism over his mistakes, and more adrenaline than he ever wanted or needed.  000 would rather drink this all down and pass out in a haze on his bed with porn muted in the background.  That's always been his preferred way to end normal missions anyway, and given this disaster 000 feels like he's earned the right.

Mission over, time to go return to laying around his studio apartment in Saffron City and dragging his ass through office busywork until the next one.  000 can't stomach being bored.  He took a job with Global for a reason, even the position wasn't rightfully earned.  Hopefully, with the Viridian City nonsense, something will fall on the books quickly enough that 000 can stay preoccupied.  Hitting the bar with 100kr after nothing to do in the office all day will _kill_ 000.

Actually, it’ll be cold in a month or so.  Hopefully nonsense goes down in Cinnabar Island.  While it’s just a shitty version of Alola, it’s at least warmer than the rest of Kanto.

Not that it matters, 000 apparently has no business as a Global agent.  100kr is the true Global agent. 000 is only the collateral damage in yet another one of his disastrous ideas.  He'll forever be working his way through a career he didn't qualify for now, galavanting the world with the adorable fucking moron who put him there.  The Lumiose City mission is just the beginning to a stunningly pathetic future.

000 was a _fantastic_ disaster, all things considered.  He got his partner kidnapped twice.  Hell, 100kr nearly wound up _tortured._ There's a hole in 000's shoulder and fishing line in his side.  To top it all off, he held hands with his idiot partner for _no good reason_ and nearly prevented their timely escape.

Thank the Tapu 100kr hasn't brought that up yet.

“I can't believe we turned around this shitshow,” 000 grumbles, chewing on a piece of kebab meat but no longer motivated to swallow it.  He sort of wants to spit it back out.  That's probably unhealthy behavior.  100kr will worry and blurt something about it eventually, likely months from now when it's hardly relevant anymore.

100kr acknowledges 000’s mood swinging surprisingly low, looking at his partner with concern.  "Are you feeling okay, Zeroes?"

"Yeah, I think the stress of all that finally got to me," 000 admits, shaking the impending spiral of intrusive criticism out of his head. It's not entirely bullshit.  He makes himself insane when missions end and he's out of things to focus on.  That's why he drinks.  "That was a clusterfuck."

“Overall this mission went quite well in the end," his partner reassures him, apparently coming to terms the kebab dinner he didn't particularly want.  Typical 100kr- fine and peachy once he has _some_ food in him. "Our skills were not exactly suited for the objective and yet with flying colors we still obtained it.  Your strategizing was excellent, to say the least, even if perhaps you do not communicate fully.”

There's quite a few counterpoints to that comment, but 000 settles with, “We could have wound up dead in the river, on several occasions.”

100kr puts his hand around 000’s shoulder, attempting to comfort him.

_Zero inches. Again._

“I would not have that happen, even if quite often my plans are poorly thought through,” he takes a swig out of the bottle of drink mix with his other hand,  "Yours were not, so it was not a risk we needed to take."

000 can’t bring himself to react to the physical contact. 100kr is warm and, despite the day being a raging fireball, Kalos nights are real chilly.  Plus his partner doesn't have a coat to borrow right now in place of his arm.

“I would not let something happen to you, Zeroes, I promise,” 100kr adds when 000 doesn't respond.

Social niceties require a response before his partner keeps repeating himself.  “Thanks.”

 _Now get off, fool_.

He's starting to feel the urge to lean against the other man.  That's a slippery slope of explanations he doesn't have.  And also considerably sappier than 000 wants to ever be with another human being.  His mood only swung because he can't go bend his partner over a trashcan and finally wear himself out, that's all.  It happens _every_ Tapu-damned mission, at least the ones with 100kr.

000 probably needs a hobby actually.  Sewing looks relatively engaging.  Maybe 100kr can teach him when they're back in Kanto.  Cyndi's stripper gig makes _perfect_ sense the more he thinks on this, since being in Team Rocket probably involves the same level of nonsense as the IP.  000 would make a terrible stripper, though.  He doesn't dance.  Even his z-move dance always feels awkward.  If 000 did that onstage in a thong, he would just wind up getting tips to fucking stop.

"I think you are simply overtired and starting to become a little grumpy," 100kr states, shrugging, "You tend to do this quite often after missions are completed."

Well, no, 000 is never tired after missions.  He'll be up until dawn.  He's not about to explain this situation to the object of his affection anytime soon.  There's no tactful way to phrase 'I'd rather be back in my bed, drunk and fantasizing about making you wake up half the hotel, instead of sitting here having a conversation with you.'

000 settles for silently squirming away, hopping off the chair, and throwing his kebab wrapper in the trash.  “Damn straight.  Let's go back to the hotel, I want to drink this one off.”

"Could we go for a walk in the park by the tower on the return?" 100kr suggests, balling up his kebab wrapper.

000's mouth drops and he stares at his partner as if he sprouted three more heads, all speaking different languages.  They _just_ established 000 is grumpy and tired, even if one of those isn't entirely the case.  000 would like to go reconcile the situation, even if 'reconcile' here means 'stay up until dawn giving into 90% of his vices'.  " _WHY?"_

"I'm not tired," 100kr points out, landing the wrapper in the trashcan on the first shot, "And I'd like to see the city now that we're not in a mission, I think it would be more enjoyable this way."

"We literally have the _entire_ rest of the week, KR.  It's the middle of the _fucking_ night," 000 attempts to reason, partially bewildered and partially pissed the fuck off.  He has a hot date with his liquor bottle that his idiot partner is intruding on, even if 100kr is considerately finishing off the juice mixer and unknowingly removing 000's obligation to drink his vodka responsibly.  "I'm not going to the Tapu-damned park tonight.  _Tomorrow_."

_Like the dinner you nonsensically want and whatever other stupid requests you're probably going to think up on the walk home._

100kr sighs, looking up at the sky, before agreeing.  "Fine.  We shall take a walk tomorrow.  After we have a real dinner."

"Okay.  We will do that.  I just want to go to bed, KR, it's nothing personal." With that halfhearted promise, 000 turns on his heels and heads into the alley.  

Team Rocket leftovers be damned, it's faster this way.  To each their own adrenaline surge, 000 decides as his partner hurries to catch up.  000 is a _little_ more than envious that 100kr's post-mission psychosis can apparently be easily alleviated with innocent midnight sight-seeing jaunts around the city.  If he really needs that to fall asleep tonight, he can go solo.  The Tapu knows, 000 does it enough.

In lieu of his much-desired walk, 100kr's leftover energy instead funnels into his motormouth.

“First successful mission as the real team lead, this is quite exciting," he muses (to 000, though 000 tries to ignore him), babbling to his heart's content, "As Spot had mentioned to me in the break room prior to leaving that he's been signing you off on your other ones, I thought you would be a little more excited about this accomplishment."

_And I'll have to thank Agent ZZ001 for sharing that fun fact with you, since he told me to be discrete about it._

"I think perhaps you become overly critical of your own mistakes."

_Perhaps because I'm not qualified to be a Global field agent._

"And this is why you become so angry all the time.  But, it really and truly was an excellent mission.  I think perhaps we should have some practice with better close combat tactics, maybe at lunch since you will not visit the shooting range with me even though you hardly eat anyway.  Perhaps if I attend the shooting range on Thursdays and Fridays _after_ work as opposed to during my lunch, then we can attend the gym for practice.  Well, no Thursdays after work are typically the time and day I read through all the new policies for the week.  Perhaps Wednesdays. No, we eat lunch together on Wednesdays.  Well, we can eat lunch after and perhaps disappear for lunch for two hours instead of one hour."

By the Tapu, 100kr loses _all_ ability to keep his thoughts in his head when he's hyped up with no direct purpose.

"KR, how is this much always passing through your brain?" 000 says in thin air, rolling his eyes. "I do _not_ understand you sometimes."

Actually, 000 understands this one, since 000 has about the same volume of unrelated nonsense passing through his head at any given moment.  He just has the good sense to leave it in his mind.  100kr babbles his nonsense, particularly when he has nothing to think about or when he's avoiding thinking with a purpose.  Car rides with him perpetually turn into one long, one-sided conversation until 000 dozes off.  000 is going to have to take sleeping pills when they fly back to Kanto, otherwise he'll be subjected to ten hours of discussion about cloud formations and intrinsically safe coffee makers.  

While 000 usually finds this behavior _adorable_ , he can't swallow his feelings right now, not after _everything_ that's happened on this mission.  Listening to his partner ramble out his thoughts just makes 000 nauseous and he would strongly prefer 100kr shut the fuck up.  Maybe the Chief can assign him another mission before they leave, so the man has paperwork to fall asleep over on the plane.

"The feeling is mutual," 100kr responds before returning to his ramblings, "But I thought this went as smoothly as we could have hoped.  First kidnapping mission entirely for me, and accomplished without senior agents.  I can check this competency off as well.  Perhaps there is a language competency I can obtain as well... well, no, I suppose I already have the Kalosian competency."

_Mostly because you were already fluent._

"But, however I did do most of the lockpicking and performed first-aid on you, those shall count towards a few checkmarks.  That level of first aid I have yet to perform in the field, so that will be beneficial towards the five-year medic competency.  Ah, and my bullet count remained under five, that is worth another that I have yet to obtain.  First time with low bullet count even if I did not quite manage zero bullet count as I intended."

"First trip to a strip club, too. Actually, shit, that happened _before_ you had your first kiss," 000 holds back a laugh but a chuckle still escapes, "Even _I_ wasn't that bad.  That's pretty fucking funny."

Actually, _that's_ fucking hilarious.  Poor 100kr... the most unfortunate and awkward IP agent to walk the face of the earth.

100kr frowns and crosses his arms, his face going red, “That does not count as a first kiss. That was an evasive maneuver.  It was not in the slightest bit intended to be romantic.”

“That still counts, KR.”  Romance has never really factored into why 000 puts his mouth on someone.  Granted, neither have evasive maneuvers but the point remains.

“Well, I do not count it.”

He's cute when he pouts, especially when he's totally wrong and he _knows_ it.  000 has spent a lot of time watching 100kr.  The man only blushes during arguments when he's aware he's gratuitously full of shit.

000 cocks an eyebrow, “How many times have you done that exactly?”

100kr nearly trips over his own feet, “Th- that was the only occurrence! That does not detract from the matter that it most certainly does not count!”

“That counts, hate to break it to you,” 000 counters.  100kr will have to suck it up, his first kiss had to be with Agent 000.  "Consider it karma for making it out alive."

“It does not count," he states defiantly,  shaking his head, "And it is not some simple matter of karma balance.  It shall just have to wait for some other time, I suppose.”

_Like right now._

_WAIT NANU STOP-_

For the first time all mission, 000 ignores his brain.  The picking on 100kr stripped him of all ability to hold his self-control in place.  He suddenly stops and grabs 100kr by the collar of his shirt.  000 pulls the other agent’s lips into his, not even giving the other agent time to express much more than a mild squeak of shock.

100kr flails, but he does open his mouth this time.  Granted, 000 can't quite tell if it’s because 000 said was supposed to, if he’s just that stunned, or if it's some awkward combination of both.  The arm flailing and general lack of movement otherwise indicates towards the 'stunned' end of the spectrum.   And as 000’s tongue brushes against 100kr's after finding itself someplace far past both sets of teeth, 000 snaps violently back into reality.

_FUCK._

“There’s your fucking first kiss then!” 000 spits, pulling away.  Every ounce of awkward and embarrassment suddenly funnels itself into sheer anger.  Granted, 000 is furious with himself, his unfathomable stupidity, and his total lapse in impulse control, but 000 puts his pissed voice on anyway for the occasion.  His brain is _screaming_ at him.  He didn't just do that after _three fucking weeks_ in fucking _Lumiose City_ with 100kr and no incident otherwise.

_FUCK._

_FUCK._

_FUCK._

He didn’t just do that.  He did not just do that. He absolutely did not just kiss his coworker and mission partner out of the _fucking blue_.  000 is going straight to his hotel room and hanging himself on the shower curtain rod, as originally intended back at the club.  He's a fucking Tapu-damned idiot.

000 will finish the vodka first though, because he paid for a whole handle so he’s going to drink the whole Tapu-damned handle.

But then he'll hang himself from the shower curtain rod, by the Tapu.

100kr blushes entirely red, stumbling backward with his hand on his mouth, before his stunned dinner-plate eyes furrow into a scowl.  “Th-th-th-that- That does not count either! You are angry and you _cursed_ at me!"

Old Hala gets the chance to write a great obituary for 000 now. _"On this day of late summer, we lost our dear Nanu, Ula'ula's favorite idiot former Trial Captain and general problem child who had the rare sense to fucking leave Alola for the International Police.  He passed away peacefully in a Lumiose City hotel room after strangling himself with his own tie (Lumiose City is in the Kalos region, for you ignorant Islanders). He is survived by an obnoxious persian, an idiot IP Global agent of questionable nationality, and an empty vodka bottle.  Flowers may be sent directly to Po Town to confuse the current residents."_

Old Hala might write some complete bullshit, actually, in a misguided effort to pretend 000 has ever been a respectable member of society.  000 should write his own obit and drop it in the post-office box first.  After the handle of vodka and the collective four cigarettes he has left.

100kr will carry on more though before 000 can start on the checklist of his impending suicide.  "That is not romantic at all, Zeroes!  And this is a dirty alleyway and neither of us are properly dressed for the occasion!”

“I have pants on, how is that not properly dressed?” 000 can hardly believe what he’s arguing right now, but arguing breaks his mind off of how entirely _fucked_ his behavior was.  By all four Tapus, Arceus, and any other deity in existence, what sort of psychopath kisses their coworker at random?!

000 can hardly believe 100kr chooses to be upset about the general surrounding environment either.  000 has hooked up in _far_ shittier places than a mostly-secluded Lumiose City alley.  100kr can complain when he’s bent over a trash can in back of the Malie City community center.  The Tapu knows, that was a relatively miserable experience.

“You look considerably nicer in your suit and tie," he huffs pointing at 000 accusingly, as if it's somehow 000's fault they haven't been back by the hotel yet.  100kr demanded dinner, not him.

"By the Tapu, take what you can get, you whiner," 000 shoots back, self-control be damned.  He's certainly not going to waste effort holding back his impulses now.  No point, he's about to hang himself on the shower curtain rod.  "You should have had your first kiss before the IP got ahold of you and made sure you never met anyone else ever again."

100kr's mood suddenly degrades from bewilderingly irritable to _furious_.  "It is no fault of my own that I did not meet someone I would like to kiss _until_ I joined the International Police, thank you very much!  I feel the very least I could request is that he not _pick_ at me over the matter!"

With that comment, the various memories from the last few days snap together so violently that 000 nearly falls backwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody reading up to this point is going "OMG WHAT THE HELL WHHYYYY" and I'm over here with "I want Turkish-meat-stick-bologna with mystery white sauce!" Anyone who can mail a doner kebab to America's sweaty Cajun-infested armpit, hit me up. For reasons. Seriously. My next meal will be chicken fried porkchop and I'm not looking forward to it.
> 
> HC: Pokemon France has doner kebab, just like real France. Granted, the only kebab stands I've ever seen were in Italy, but we're gonna ignore that slight detail.
> 
> ALSO HC: Neither Nanu or Looker actually handle having nothing to do. Nanu gets depressed and makes himself miserable (see: SuMo), and Looker turns into Looker concentrate. I dunno, I work a stressful as fuck job and the second we get past the 'hell yes it's over', everyone's senselessly HYPED and emotions take hard and weird screwballs. Seems like a reasonable response for a job that also involves almost dying on a regular basis.


	14. KsLuC-0957:13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000's brain fails to come up with a suitable apology, but 100kr gets his walk in the park anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: This is the last chapter before the epilogue, so you can probably guess what content you need to be warned you'll be disappointed about. Also chaste handholding. And some more lame internal monologue threats of suicide out of 000.

_Nanu, you're a fucking idiot.  Congratulations. You’ve been on date with your partner for forty-five minutes and you didn’t so much as NOTICE.  The fucking dumbass of the year, you are._

000 is unfathomably stupid, yes, but unfathomably stupid for _entirely_ the opposite reasons than originally believed.

100kr's behavior over the last twenty-four hours suddenly becomes a world more sensible.  Accepting the awkward handhold at the strip club.  His arm weirdly around 000 in the phone booth and at dinner.  Neuroticizing over a nice dinner (even if they just ate kebabs instead).  Being hurt that 000 rejected his proposal for a walk.

Hell, 100kr not calling 000 out on his bad ideas _all_ mission.  Sharing dinner whenever 000 blew his per diem on drinks and smokes.  _T_ _hrowing a fucking match two years ago so 000 could get the job he wanted_.  Loaning out his trenchcoat (or his fucking _shirt_ ) if 000 so much as threatened to appear cold.  Legitimately, the rock solid amount of bullshit 100kr tolerated within the last three years should have been the blinking neon sign-  000 has drunkenly thrown up on him at least three times, crashed on his couch several more when he wound up too drunk to walk across the city to his apartment, and once had to be carried around Mt. Moon by the man.

000 is the most unfathomably stupid, unbelievably oblivious, unrepentant dumbass in the International Police.

_THE TAPU DAMNIT I FUCKED UP ALREADY!_

Doubly-so because 100kr is _real_ fucking furious.  The two argue and bicker often, admittedly.  000's sarcastic comments have a fifty-fifty shot of upsetting 100kr or making him blush, and occasionally a bad idea or one of 000's many personal indiscretions will leave him slightly incensed.  Usually the issue blows over quickly enough or 000 can 'compromise' (usually... 000 just agrees with his partner's ramblings, which probably isn't healthy behavior but he'll worry about that _later_ ).  Irreparably angry 100kr, however, 000 usually manages to avoid.  Up until now, the most frustration 000 has managed culminated in 100kr's outburst in their hotel over the sufficiency of a photo of Admin Cyndi.

This... sort of pales in comparison.  Moreover, there's nothing for 000 to blindly agree with, so his only strategy fails to apply.  Even 100kr doesn't seem to particularly know what to do next, since he's just standing, red-faced and glowering, with his finger pointed at a frozen 000.

_Good job, Nanu.  Fucking. Good. Job._

"KR, I am _so_ sorry," 000 finally breathes after a few moments of 100kr staring him down.  He's not good at apologies. He always feels they should sound more flowery than he can stomach, and his mind is screaming too many obscenities right now to make flowers. Flowers won't fix this anyway.  "I take it back."

_You motherfucking idiot, Nanu.  You HAD to run your fucking mouth.  Of everything you could have done, you had to fucking be YOU._

"N-no... n-no... I am angry... _because_ I am angry, you apologize... you are apologizing and sorry... and you... the part... you are taking... the part where you mean... you _were_ mean is the part you are taking back," 100kr replies slowly, balling his fists, "Th-th- that is all."

_THE TAPU DAMNIT BRAIN, MAKE WORDS._

"No, I'm _actually_ sorry this time," 000 responds lamely, desperately trying to conjure better phrasing.  Somehow ' _please no let me undo that and also everything else I've ever said and let's go kiss more in the hotel room until that somehow makes things better'_ doesn't seem likely to blow this over.  "C'mon, let's just... go."

000's brain feels _fried_.  He wasted so much energy on strategy today, he's coming up empty-handed.  Plus, this is his partner, who he personally upset, and not a hostile.  Hostiles always have the backup option of bullet spray or venoshock.  This needs to work the _first_ time and _soon_.  

100kr slowly turns from angry to _panicked._  His bruised-up hands are shaking.  His eyes clench shut and the corners of his mouth slowly turn into a panicked wince. The angry red in his face turns to a bewildered pink and spreads all the way to his ears, and suddenly his attention diverts to his shoes.

"No thank you." 100kr shakes his head quickly.  

He's... he's about to have a meltdown.  Nope, 000 does not do meltdowns.  He especially does not do meltdowns in public, in the middle of the night, with the agent that means more to him than... well, actually more than anyone else.  Not after 000's smartass mouth caused it, that's for certain, he's not having a meltdown.

A walk is in order.  100kr appears ready to cry, but he might not if they walk.   000 honestly isn't sure what to do if the man starts, though it will probably involve hanging himself on a shower curtain rod.  Thank the Tapu he _doesn't_ have his tie on, even if 100kr likes the tie.  000 would have strangled himself already.

"I can't just leave you here, KR," he tries to explain.  

If 000 doesn't fix this _right now_ , then tomorrow he'll likely wake up to a partner who won't speak of this ever again and will speak to 000 undoubtedly _less_.  He's spent three years with 100kr, he knows how the man deals with personal problems.  It'll be another three before they magically wind up teammates again, just like he magically hasn't been teammates with Ds529 since 100kr got pantsed in a hotel lobby (000 actually wasn't present for this incident, but Ds529 tried with 000 a month later).

One of these days when 000 can think clearly, he'll uncover why 100kr always lands missions with agents that don't suck while 000 consistently winds up with agents like Ds529 and Hvc6.  Hell, he only lands ZZ001 missions if 100kr is also on the personnel list.  It's weird and actually a little frustrating.

_FOCUS and think of something eloquent, Nanu, you fucking idiot!_

"I-i-it shall... will be... perfectly  fine, I shall... with you... I shall _catch up_ with you in... a... several minutes," his partner responds softly and deliberately, "S-sleep... You wanted to go to sleep, and I will not delay sleep further for you."

"Well, no, I wanted to go back to my room and watch porn," he nearly hits himself as the brutal honesty escapes him,"But definitely not anymore.  Let's both go back to the hotel."

_So much for fucking eloquent._

By the Tapu, what exactly _does_ come out of his mouth?  000 apparently has a filter for everything he _should_ say and a gaping hole for everything that should stay in his head.  For example, he _should_ have asked 100kr if he could kiss him a long time ago.  Possibly _not_ three years ago, when they first met, but about and around the time they made Global would have been relatively acceptable.  If 000 could have mustered that, he might _not_ have spent two years as the world's worst (or at least most easily distracted) field agent.  Instead of saying more _stupid disrespectful bullshit_ , 000 and 100kr would be ass naked in a hotel bed right now.

And now, 000 certainly doesn't _deserve_ any of that anyway.  He's a shit example of a person.  Hell, 000 has even said _worse_ before, even if the general context wasn't _nearly_ as insulting.  It's baffling 100kr even _wanted_ to kiss him.

_Not that he'll want to anymore!  Nanu, you're a fucking MORON!_

100kr sighs, putting a hand over his eyes as if he's trying to keep from crying.  "Zeroes. _.._ _please_ leave."

_ABSOFUCKINGLUTELY NOT!_

By the fucking Tapu though, 000 is about to have an anxiety attack himself and he needs to clear his head before he can fix all this.  A walk will help 000 conjure proper apologies.  They could even swing by the park.  100kr wanted to walk in the park earlier anyway.  The alley is starting to feel claustrophobic, the park may do them both some good.

"I'm not just going to leave you in the alley," 000 responds impatiently, his frustration with himself starting to funnel outward.  He needs to _move_ , elsewise he'll just get angry.  Well, 000 is already fucking furious at himself, no fucking doubt, but he's at risk of doing something _downright idiotic_ like venting it.  "Come with me."

The other man just shakes his head.

_FUCK IT, we're leaving!  And then you're going to fix this shit!_

"That's an _order_ , Agent 100kr," 000 commands.  This is _definitely_ an abuse of the minor authority the team lead title provides, but 000 doesn't have a bunch of patience leftover. His strategy and planning abilities burned out about and around the time they dumped a partially-conscious stripper on the side of the road.  "And don't you _fucking_ override it.  We're under orders to lay low and we haven't gotten the green-light to be out and about."

Actually 'lay low' is about the most ignored phrase in the IP, next to 'don't sexually harass your coworkers', and 000 expects 100kr to call him on it.  Neither of them cared a few minutes ago.

Instead, apparently humoring his partner, 100kr lets out another long sigh.  "Fine, I will go with you."

They walk silently through the alley, with 100kr pinching the bridge of his nose and focusing on his shoes.  000 tries not to look at him, just in case he is tearing up.  000 will just abort and hang himself 100kr starts crying, since he's more terrified of what he's just blurted than the impending matter of fixing it.

His brain won't spit up anything much beyond falling to his knees and begging the man for forgiveness.  That's embarrassing for both of them, honestly.  There's also no way in hell 100kr will take that even slightly seriously, since he knows 000 better than that.   000 might just get his rematch if that winds up as his only idea, so the park is probably a better locale if that's the option he has to take.  Close quarter fights tend to end badly for 000 and the park has trees he can duck behind.

000 _will_ sincerely apologize somehow before it turns into begging which turns into a fight.

Once his brain says something besides ' _you're a fucking asshole'_ , anyway.

Time to try anyway, since the alleyway ends here and the park by the tower begins.  Prism Tower is actually real neat in the middle of the night.  Most of the surrounding buildings are dark, so its white light projects in all directions, giving a weird moonlight effect in a city too bright to really see the sky.  000 sort of understands the obsession with the park now.  100kr probably wanted their first kiss to be here.  It's a very 100kr setting, he's sort of a romantic like that.  The alley seems fairly cruel in comparison and 000's heart sinks just a little more.

_You're an idiot, and a fucking asshole._

That's a good enough leading point.  "KR, _listen_ , I'm-"

"I believe this is all highly unnecessary," 100kr starts to ramble anxiously, cutting him off, "This does not require apologies.  We have both behaved in an unprofessional and unbecoming manner for Global field agents.  I believe our best course of action is to overlook this situation entirely and never speak of this or to each other again."

_Yes, let's just take the nuclear option, I don't know what you expected 100kr to want. Good. Fucking. Job. Nanu._

"If my... attitude towards you makes you at all uncomfortable, I will put in a transfer to another branch.  In fact, I will most likely anyway because clearly I cannot handle both my duties and my friendship with you and my personal indiscretions-"

_The fuck?_

"KR, are you really citing fucking _IP policy_ right now?"

"The policy is in place for some reason, even if it is mostly ignored," he sighs, shaking his head,"I guess I have discovered that reason."

"How could the policy on fraternization possibly apply right now?" 000 asks the pavement ends and they traverse the grass.  000 has no destination in mind.  "I mean, aside from the obvious, I guess."

This probably falls firmly in "sexual harassment" not "fraternization" anyway, even if 100kr wasn't opposed to kissing him.  Maybe that makes it regular harassment.  000 has no idea, he isn't in HR.  They really _aren't_ supposed to be kissing each other at all, actually, but nobody will fucking know. They're in Lumiose City, and by the Tapu, 000 will figure out a way around it _anyway_ if by some miracle 100kr accepts his apologies.  Hell, he'll switch to analytics or something.

Well, no, he'll be bored.

He'll think about that _later,_ along with why 000 always gets shit teammates and apparently along with his eloquent and heartfelt apology for running his mouth and losing his mind.  Short of begging for forgiveness on his knees, 000 still doesn't have anything.  It's at least a _step_ in the correct direction of 'I'm sorry I'm inconsiderate beyond all logical reason.'

"Why did we go to the park?" 100kr asks, looking up from his shoes, "I thought you wanted to return to the hotel.   Are you okay?"

000 stops.  "No, I'm not, I am trying to apologize."

"This is a very peculiar method of apology," 100kr shakes his head, turning to leave back to the alley, "I will be perfectly honest with you."

000 grabs him by the arm.   They're going to talk, even if 000 doesn't have an apology prepared yet. "Well, you're not fucking _listening_ to me."

_Mostly because you haven't said anything of value, dumbass._

"I heard you quite clearly.  I am not entirely sure what else you want from me," 100kr states testily.

"That's a real stupid statement," 000 scoffs, "I can think of a whole _list_ of things I want from you now, starting with how I want to make you moan so loud you wake up the rest of the Tapu-damned hotel."

100kr's eyes nearly bug out of his head and his frown drops wide open into a thoroughly gaping and bewildered stare.

That came out of 000's mouth.

_Well._

_Fuck._

_Nanu, you fucking asshole..._

"I said that outloud, didn't I?" That... that should have stayed in his head, actually.  Forever.   000's thoughts and bad decisions have been escaping from his head with alarming frequency lately.

_Now, back to hanging yourself with your tie..._

His partner nods. "I- I- I thought you are apologizing for kissing me?"

"No.  Well, maybe?" 000 planned to have an apology come to him by now.  000 is honestly out of ideas.  There has been _entirely_ too much strategizing for one day.  His mind has nothing left, certainly not flowery apologies to express how sorry he is for being him.

Fuck it, he'll just let 100kr ramble more and they'll work it out from there.  100kr rambles kickstart most of his plans anyway, even if 000 will never admit to the fact.  "Fuck it, just list off all the reasons I'm an ass and I'll just start apologizing for them."

100kr scowls, shaking his arm out of 000's grip. "You are _mocking_ me,"  he spits, "Just as you mocked me by kissing me a few minutes ago."

"By the Tapu, NO!" 000 corrects, a little shocked at 100kr's perception.  Teased his partner, _kissed_ him, told him to suck up and take what he can get, and then apologized only when his partner confessed his attraction to him... combined with all the really poor apologies... Actually, that's exactly how 000 sounds.  That is all firmly in the category of 'mocking'.  100kr isn't _mad,_ he's _humiliated_.

_You're even more of an asshole, fucking congrats!_

000 puts his face in his hands at the realization.  He didn't intend to kiss his partner, yeah.  He's sure as shit not sorry about that now, just as he's not truly sorry about his last thoughtless blurt.  Agent 000 is sorry he wasn't a thousand times more thoughtful about the situation and infinite times less of an unrepentant dumbass after the fact.

That's actually sort of eloquent.  Those particular words don't vocalize, however.  Instead 000 winds up with, "No, no, no, is that seriously what you thought?!"

"Well, yes.  I suppose I miscalculated your intentions originally and perhaps became a little... pushy? You have never once intentionally touched me before tonight and then you even allowed me to put my arm on you without cursing over the matter," 100kr rambles his thoughts, fidgeting nervously, "And I may have been a little... overzealous after the completion of that mission and this City has a rather... conducive atmosphere to miscalculation of this nature.  I made a serious misjudgement on the matter and overstepped my boundaries entirely.  I apologize entirely for my unprofessional demeanor, but your actions were quite honestly downright and positively _cruel_.  And it is further upsetting that you will not allot me the opportunity to be embarrassed about my... ahem... personal indiscretions... in private.  Which I am profusely sorry for."

"Quit fucking apologizing, you didn't do anything.  Why didn't you _kill_ me?"  Hell, 000 nearly did after the subway incident.  If 000 even thought for even a _moment_ that 100kr intended a twisted joke instead of a fucking terrible defense tactic, there would have been a _murder-suicide_.

Well, actually only a murder.  That's honestly too insulting to die over.  000 _would_ eventually kill himself in the aftermath of a homicide with prejudice on 100kr though, so a murder-slightly-delayed-suicide.

"Zeroes, I would never intentionally hurt you, even if occasionally you are a sufficiently _awful_ person."

"I'm not _that_ fucking awful of a person, by the fucking Tapu.  I wasn't fucking mocking you, I've been trying to _not_ kiss you for..." _Don't say three years, you'll sound like a bag of unchecked psychosis,_ "Three _fucking_ years.  Hell, if I knew you wanted it, I'd have kissed you _way_ the fuck earlier and not been a piece of _shit_ about it.  It wasn't a _joke_ , I'm just a fucking dumbass and I'm _sorry_!"

100kr, stunned and uncharacteristically speechless, can't produce a response.  His face contorts but his voice doesn't form words.  000 half-expects him to _run_ away this time (the Tapu knows, 000 sounds like a _sociopath_ right now), but his partner eventually manages, "But why are we in the park?"

"I needed to clear my fucking head before I blubbered something that would make you cry," 000 admits honestly, shrugging, "But I guess if I come up with a good enough apology between now and dawn, and if a miracle occurs and you do forgive me, we could talk about redoing that da-"

100kr doesn’t give him a chance to finish.  His arms suddenly wrap around 000 and they’re kissing for real.  This time, 000 is caught so far off guard, _he_ forgets to open his mouth until 100kr threatens to pry it open with his tongue.  In all honesty, 000 was so engrossed with properly apologizing to 100kr that he forgot to be _fucking thrilled_ for a moment.  His cute-as-fuck-mission-partner wants to kiss him.  The reality totally slipped 000's mind.

Make no mistake, 000 is _definitely_ excited now.  The persistent butterflies in his stomach have returned with ferocity, though they're quickly traveling lower.  Thank the Tapu jeans have a _little_ less give than his slacks, because right now 000 may as well be a hormonal teenager again and he's a tad embarrassed about it.  The cold is _certainly_ no longer a bother, even without 100kr squeezing him so hard he's at risk of having ribs broken.  He can't really breathe anyway, especially with 100kr's lips against his, so it's not of huge concern.

Granted, moving his arms before circulation winds up cut off entirely would be preferable.  000 less than delicately squirms to release from 100kr's death grip, and in the process somehow winds up knocking both of them into the grass.  After a brief "you ok?", they're back to kissing and suddenly in a borderline wrestling match.  It ends with 100kr flat on top of him, which doesn't seem entirely fair given the size difference, but 100kr is real _warm_ and rapidly growing warmer.

000's shoulder threatens to hurt, but he's too honestly distracted to give a damn.  100kr's hand finds it way underneath it anyway, gingerly providing a cushion between 000's wound and the hard ground.  His other hand gropes its way up 000's arm before eventually locating and intertwining with 000's hand, squeezing him for dear life.  

100kr can’t quite figure out kissing as adeptly, which is of little surprise.  He has no earthly idea what to do with his tongue once it's in 000's head and sort of just pokes aimlessly at him.  It doesn't matter in the slightest, because 000 attacks him and goads him into a second wrestling match of sorts. 100kr still tastes like 000's toothpaste and coffee (and kebab sauce).  000 feels bad about the lack of breath mints on his person, since he's more or less been chain smoking, but 100kr clearly doesn’t mind the ashtray taste anymore.

It doesn’t matter, not when 000 is trying to reach the man's tonsils in any case.  With all the finesse 000 can muster right now, he may as well be a teenager again.  He frantically grasps at whatever of 100kr is within reach of his bad arm.  He's wanted this for three years, and by the Tapu, he can't decide whether he wants to grab at the other man's hair, his waist, or his shoulders first.  100kr whimpers lightly at all options, so it's hard to determine his preference anyway.

Nothing actually matters, until 100kr lets up a little and 000 opens his eyes.  100kr is still kissing him lightly, but with both eyes open, staring straight over his partner.  Despite 000's urge to shove the other agent's head back down, that's more than just 100kr's awkward and worth noting.

000 breaks off and tilts his head backward to check whatever is beyond them. “What’s up?”

“There are quite a few local police officers here tonight,” 100kr notes, grabbing onto 000’s good shoulder nervously.  “And we _did_ get caught illegally battling here yesterday….”

_SHIT._

There’s a _lot_ of cops, 000 notices as he glances around the park- one posted at every corner of Prisim Tower and about twenty feet from every alley entrance, and two or three at each intersection to the main roads.  The agents didn't so much as _look_ at their surroundings when they meandered here.  000 should have thought this through. That’s literally the story of this whole mission, actually.

To add to it, they're rolling around in the grass like the _unrepentant dumbasses_ they are and making a scene in the middle of the night in _public_.

“Yeah, this might not have been a good idea, come to think of it,” 000 concedes.  Kalos Branch probably put Lumiose PD on high alert.  The two agents were technically under orders to lie low.  While they're lying, this isn't close to what the Chief had in mind.

"I think that was enough of a satisfactory first kiss," 100kr decides nervously, still looking around the park, "Thank you very much and apology accepted for the inconsiderate nonsense that you sporadically speak. I believe would be now best if we prudently wrap up here and... leave.   _Posthaste_."

“Yup, that’s all the romance you get,” 000 jokes squirming out from underneath 100kr.  A few of the cops are talking to each other and glancing in their direction. Hopefully they assume the two are just idiot tourists.  Nothing to see here, officers, just two questionably-sober morons caught up in their trip to Lumiose City.  Happens all the time.  "Sporadic nonsense?"

"You have a tendency to say a variety of unkind things, to me specifically, when you are anxious,"100kr points out as he stands up, "It is not so much different than many things you have expressed on other missions.  To me."

"Yeah, I'm still sorry," 000 says with a sigh,"I don't really know _how_ to apologize for that."

_Or really, any other nonsense I've spewed.  Let's just square one this all and I'll forget about the match.  Maybe._

The other agent smiles, brushing the grass off of 000's back, "You are forgiven, as I know when you are anxious you lose control of your words... just differently than I do.  I did not consider the possibility or extent of how anxious you were as well.  I am sorry for overlooking that."

"I do not," 000 protests, "And _please_ stop fucking apologizing."

"You do this every time you speak with the Chief, Zeroes," his partner reminds him, hugging him from behind, " _Every_ time."

000 turns slightly and rests his head against the crux of his partner's neck.  He smells just like his coat, 000 notices- coffee, gunpowder, and cheap makeup.  It's almost unfair that they have to leave already.  Granted, this would be a _little more_ than difficult to explain to the Chief in a phone call from a jail cell.  "I do not."

"You do.  But if you ever call me a ' _whiner_ ' again, we _will_ have our rematch," 100kr threatens, "I can tolerate your anxiety but I do not particularly appreciate it directed at me."

"This is starting to sound like how forgiven you are for throwing that match in the first place," 000 points out, "But, fair."

His partner chuckles, "It is something similar that, yes.  Though, I believe we are actually perfectly even now, since I already expect you will be sneaky and bring a knife to that fistfight."

"I'll bring a fucking gun."

"I will definitely win if that is the case," 100kr retorts with a smile.  

000 lets him have his stupid joke, 000 gets enough insults in against him anyway.

The two wordlessly decide to head towards the alley at the far side of the park. It’ll look real suspicious if they walk out the same way they walked in.  The objective now is for the cops to not give a flying fuck and focus on apprehending wayward Team Rocket... not bonus assholes.

"Can I hold your hand?" 100kr asks as they depart, tilting his head towards an officer staring them down.

"KR, I will let you do whatever the fuck you want to me," 000 replies, side-eying the closest representatives from Lumiose City PD.  The dead-staring one doesn't move, but the one at the tower doors actively scribbles in a notepad.

100kr blushes but grabs his hand quickly.

“Well, I sure as shit don't think I'll be 'anxious' anymore.  Why didn’t you say something earlier?” 000 asks, a little perturbed that he _didn't_ need to drive himself insane for the better part of... okay, it has been three years.

“I did, I took you on a date but you only wanted to eat kebabs and mope,” his partner states simply, as if that is all normal 000 behavior.  Actually, that _is_ normal 000 behavior, but he would have behaved himself if he'd known it was a date.

“I meant earlier than _tonight_ ,” he corrects, “Like any of the nine thousands times we’ve been together since we met.  I would have done this on our first day of Tapu-damned training!”

His partner blushes,  “I actually did not believe this true.  Your actions are considerably... confusing, so I simply assumed you had no interest.  I got... a little carried away after that mission admittedly and took a few risks I otherwise would have... not.”

“How am I confusing?!” 000 has been _relatively_ nice to 100kr.  He even put out a cigarette for him on their first day with the IP and helped him carrying his suitcase up the stairs (why does nothing involving the IP _ever_ include a fucking _elevator_ ).

"If I so much as brush against you, you grow considerably enraged and typically yell obscenities at me," he explains, point blank, "You are not nearly as hesitant or upset about touching anyone else or... more than that...  and it has always been _only_ and _consistently_ with me, until a few hours ago.”

000 wants to kick himself, "My bad.  I’ll take you to real dinner sometime then to make up for it.”

“I would certainly hope tomorrow, as you promised!"

000 chuckles. “Heh,  I actually might be broke right now...”

He _really_ needs to check his bank account.

“Well, I would at least like to kiss you again anyway,” 100kr mutters sheepishly, “That was nice.”

000 grins, "We have four days left in Lumiose.  You want to ruin the sheets in your room or mine?”

“Erm... I think that... that is a little presumptuous and I was hoping maybe we could... take... things... a little slower than possibly… that?”  he says nervously, his grip tightening.

_Dear 000's mouth, please meet 000's foot._

He’s not ready for that joke or the acts implied by it.  000 should have guessed that.  He's going to just speak less in general from now on, actually.

“It's a _joke_.  We can just watch TV or hug or something, not fuck. _Relax_ ,” 000 watches as another cop looks in their direction and cocks an eyebrow at them. 000 is at least not stupid enough to assume that his partner is up for his “first” kiss and losing in virginity in the same night.  That’s more of a 000 tactic and actually he wouldn’t recommend it to anyone else.

“Okay, yes, that is a little more of a reasonable order of business,” his partner confirms, still blushing.

“I'll only do whatever you want, KR.  Also,” he adds lowly, watching over his shoulder as the closest Lumiose officer talks into his radio, “We run as soon as we turn the corner.”

“That sounds like excellent course of action,” 100kr agrees, glancing over his shoulder and tightening his grip on 000’s hand as they disappear out of sight of local law enforcement.  He grabs 000 by the upper arms and pulls him in for another quick kiss.

000 could get used to this.

“Readysetgo!” 100kr exclaims suddenly, before turning on his heels and bolting.

Suddenly, they’re in another race, all ten blocks back to the hotel.   000 might even let him win this one.  His ass does look nice in jeans.  Well, maybe a tie instead. 000 has this gut feeling he'll _eventually_ get a better look at 100kr's ass, but he's wearing a smile a mile wide right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H/C: Nanu's pretty fucking terrible at actually communicating his thoughts and Looker started out life as an overly-forgiving pushover. There's honestly a LOT more to this headcannon that eventually involves Nanu not being in the IP by SuMo, but that's entirely beyond the scope of this particular fic. The problems folks eventually break over are typically present at the first date, after all... 
> 
> This turned out way longer than intended, sorry.
> 
> There will be an epilogue and some various clerical notes afterwards... stay tuned. I originally planned to post the entire ending at once, but figured you guys would appreciate getting this update sooner than later.


	15. KsLuC-0957:Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which 000 decides to start being a less shitty Global agent of the International Police.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Badly written makeout scene (not R rated, but maybe don't read it at work). 000's Persian being herself. The Chief.

Agent 000 sits on 100kr’s windowsill, smoking a cigarette and trying to finish scratching out his daily field report as the sun rises.  Given the circumstances of the evening, both agents totally forgot their report and it's definitely 000's turn to write one after two years.   Besides, Agent 100kr is busy snoring on the bed, with Croagunk and Persian curled up at his feet.  He's in no state to write a report.

On return to the hotel, TV watching lasted all of three minutes- about when both agents remembered they don’t watch television and 100kr started getting handsy.  000 wound up straddling his partner and aiming for the back of his throat again by minute four.  Round one, after all, had been rudely cut off by Lumiose PD presence.  000 hadn't exactly finished determining whether 100kr tasted more like coffee or his toothpaste.

100kr was a mildly stunned and slightly sleep-deprived fury of awkward and elbows in the meantime, trying to determine what to do with his hands.   000's hands were little preoccupied running his nails underneath the other agent's shirt, so his go-to move from park wound up inapplicable. 100kr hadn't exactly thought through the logistics of round two.  000 eventually just told him point blank that he didn't need to be so fucking delicate (000 is a lot of things, but glass isn't one of them), and his partner nearly yanked a fistful of silver hair out of 000's head.

Not that 000 had any complaints, particularly after 100kr tried to physically shush his groaning lest he wake up the surrounding guests.   A hand over his mouth and teeth in his neck admittedly did very little for the noise level.

The only thing slightly more surprising than how fucking hard 100kr could pull (well... would, could isn't much of a question out of an IP agent) was how many scars the man hid under the sufficiently unnecessary two layers of shirt.  000 has a similar share of random scars from the combination of stupidity and the nature of the career path, but he'd always assumed his partner was more careful.  100kr might have been the only agent in Global to never report any injuries.  Admittedly, nobody reports _all_ of their on-job injuries but 100kr has reported approximately _zero_ since starting.  

The nicks in his chest and back would indicate otherwise.  It _did_ explain why 100kr always lands higher profile missions than 000, and 000 made a mental note to be comatose and bleeding out before he even _thinks_ about filling out another 'Recordable Incident- Laceration, Contusion, Trauma, etc' form.  000 may or may not have chewed 100kr out a little over not following protocol between bites at his neck anyway.  He may or may not have even chewed him out a second time just because he liked the whimper 100kr gave as he did.

As it turns out, the two agents had a matching set of scars too- eight in the collarbone, compliments of the same angry Persian.  100kr evidently earned his when 000 was poisoned out of his Tapu-damned mind at Mt. Moon (000 earned his years ago upon arrival to Kanto). 000 made a mental note to scold her later as he apologetically kissed each of them.  100kr desperately tried not to be loud himself as 000 went (and failed, but nobody banged on the walls... no harm, no foul).

They made it as far as a half-hearted attempt by 000 to remove 100kr’s belt, at which point the other agent panicked, clammed up a little, and accidentally elbowed 000 in the eye.  Kissing immediately became several minutes of “it’s OK to have boundaries” and confirmation that 000 is fine with taking things slow and “no, that’s not my pissed voice, it’s my mildly injured voice” and no, 000 isn’t hurt badly enough for ice, please stop trying to get ice and "that really didn’t hurt, just give me a second" and yes, 000 is “really actually truly perfectly fine with leaving his hands above the belt for at least this night."  Then a bag of ice needed disposing of, since 000 didn’t need any ice.

In all seriousness, 000 thought having a belt on still would just be _uncomfortable_ and he didn't really mean anything by the gesture.

By the time he had reassured 100kr sufficiently enough that they could return to his bed, Persian broke out of her pokeball and let 000 know exactly how much she appreciated being stowed while he hooked up.  She appreciated him right onto the hole already in his shoulder.  000 then screamed loudly enough to _actually_ wake up other guests on their floor, based on the bangs on the wall.

100kr kept nodding off re-packing the wound with gauze, despite Croagunk prodding him continuously before he accidentally hurt 000 (thank the Tapu _someone’s_ pokemon likes 000, even if it’s not his persian).  Sleep was basically in order for everyone by that point, enforced by 100kr picking 000 up off the sink and carrying him to bed.  They dozed off hand in hand.  For all of ten minutes anyway, when 100kr cuddled 000 into a headlock and he briefly stopped breathing.

They've shared a bed on missions before, courtesy of cruel jokes by senior agents.  It's not the first time 000 has woken up in a chokehold and he should have predicted the possibility.   Near death aside, it was still somewhat more pleasant not intentionally sleeping back to back, on opposite edges, pretending to be anywhere else (as if 000 could sleep those missions anyway).  Well, maybe he did sleep on those missions, but that didn't mean he slept as well as the ten minutes before 100kr unconsciously attempted to cuddle him to death.  The adrenaline from near suffocation at least allowed him to remember the not-remotely-composed state of their daily report.  000 suddenly felt overcome with an urge to never find himself so close to unemployment (and a lack of Kanto visa, and a subsequent lack of 100kr) ever again.  

Agent 000 is decidedly done with being a shitty Global IP agent, he decides as he signs his codename at the bottom of the completed report.  His professional life has arguably been in the gutter more or less since it began (especially considering the fact he shouldn't have been in Global IP at all).  The first step towards salvaging the remains probably involves submitting the mandatory reports. The Chief might just shit a brick he wrote one.... if she can even read it.  000's handwriting is _atrocious_ , on further review.

After his first completed daily field report, he'll need to tackle the growing stack of clearance paperwork currently scattered on his cubicle desk in Saffron.  000 has at least nine that he's been procrastinating on.  Most clearance-level gigs pay out better than organized crime and 000 has a weird feeling 100kr will run up the bills more than he plans.  That tends to _magically_ happen to 000 when his head is in the clouds over someone.

The phone rings through the impending morning.  000 groans at the idea of whatever the hell the Chief could possibly want.  His report is due at 0700 Kalos time, he has twenty minutes left.

“KR, phone.”

No response, 000 wore him out real good.  000 _would_ be proud of that, but a round three may never commence if he picks up a call with headquarters.  It's Tapu-damned-o-clock and he’s in 100kr’s room with no explanation.  Global agents aren’t supposed to fraternize, and earning a bite mark so large 100kr might not have sufficient pasty-colored concealer falls well within the terms of 'fraternization.'

000 and 100kr didn't exactly _discuss_ how to handle the overhanging issue of the their employer's policies.  100kr did expound on "everybody ignores that rule", which as it turns out, included catching Xyz, Ds529, Tyt, and Hvc6 at varying points in his career thus far.  That partially explains how 000 always finds himself shackled to Ds529 and Hvc6 on missions, anyway.

000 _swore_ Hvc6 is married, too.  He remembers signing that card in the break room last fall.

True to his general principles of human decency, 100kr spared him any details.  In any case, 000 and 100kr aren't the first agents and won't be the last.  Discrete probably wouldn't kill them, though.  The Chief does _hate_ 000\.  She'd unceremoniously ship him off to Sinnoh Branch within the hour.

The phone continues to ring.

00 jumps off the windowsill, shutting the window, and kicks the bed a few times.  “KR, you need to pick up the phone."

“Yes... phones...” 100kr rolls onto his stomach.  He better _never_ complain about how hard 000 sleeps, ever again.

"KR, _PHONE._ "

No use, 100kr is far into dreamland.  "Phones..."

Whatever.  000 will think of _something._  He always does.  He hasn't been this outright _sober_ in a long time, so thinking might even process a little easier.

“Evening, Chief,” he greets into the receiver, mentally bracing himself for his boss.

“ZEROES WHAT THE HELL?!” she yells back, “Where the hell is the daily field report?!  The mission finished hours ago!  And why the fuck are you picking up this number?!”

“Glad you wanted to talk to _me_ ,” 000 shoots, “I’ve got one for a change of pace. I was about to fax it in.  You’re running a little early, I still have twenty fucking minutes by my clock.”

100kr shoots out of bed at the mention of the daily field report he forgot to write.  “The report!”

“I swear to god, you’re holding up my meeting with Kalos division _as we fucking speak_!  You two are the most useless-”

“Hey, I just delivered you a fucking Rocket admin," 000 reminds her, watching 100kr nearly kick Croagunk as he untangles himself from his bedsheet cocoon.  Croagunk snorts at him and inches farther away before dozing back off.  "I feel like that’s worth something.”

“Yeah, it’s worth not dismissing you and not a whole lot fucking else.  Now fax me that report so I can light a fire under the fucking Elite Four over there!” the Chief demands.

100kr starts stumbling around helplessly for a shirt.  000 tries to mouth that he has everything covered, but the agent doesn’t notice.  His partner instead knocks against every piece of furniture in the room, muttering his usual string of not-remotely-obscene interjections as he goes.

“Like I said, I was _about_ to send it.  Mission protocol states I have until seven my time.”

“Mission protocol states that it should be done as soon as fucking _possible_ , not after you finish having a fucking _sleepover_ with Motormouth!" the Chief seethes, "What the fuck are you doing in his room anyway?!  Isn’t in six am there?!”

“Having the greatest prank of all time ruined by my boss, apparently,” 000 lies, “Thanks for that, it took me like ten minutes to get this much ice out of the shitty hotel machine.”

100kr blinks stupidly. “Ice?”

000 waves it off.  He’ll explain his terrible diversion tactics later.

“Well, wake him up while you’re at it," she sighs, "Mitch has flights arranged for you two. You dumbasses leave at eleven.”

He nearly drops the phone.  “The hell happened to five days?"

“You finished in one," she sighs, "Congratulations, you get to come home.”

“The fuck?!” 000 resists the urge to kick the desk chair.  This throws a wrench in his plan for the next few days, which involved less planes and offices and more hotel beds.  And also in 100kr's dinner plans, since an airline microwave dinner tray is _not_ what he had in mind.

“This is work, not a paid vacation, Zeroes," the Chief reminds him coldly, "Arceus knows, you don’t fucking deserve one of those.”

100kr desperately tries to throw on 000’s button-up and keep himself upright with the dresser at the same time.  He's extremely confused it won't button around him.  000 needs this call to end before the man injures himself.  “Great, thanks.”

“Oh you’ll thank me once you report the fuck back.  Now fax me your fucking daily field report!”

She hangs up.  000 groans.  Instead of a hotel room, they'll have to screw around in his considerably shittier apartment back in Saffron City, and 000 desperately needs to clean the place before he allows the other man over.  He can’t actually remember if he emptied the fridge before he left for Kalos.  The mold on the leftover takeout has probably developed written language by now and the pile of dirty slacks slowly building next to the dishwasher will mortify 100kr.

000 does hate his neighbors though, so they can at least be little louder back in Saffron.

Oh well.  It's all part of the job he wouldn’t have met 100kr without, and 000 needs to stop sucking wind at it anyway.  Hell, without it, he’d probably be a druggie shooting up on Exeggutor Island right now.  Or murdered by Totem Mimikyu. Or in prison.  Granted, 0000 clocked a stripper half to death tonight and then dumped her duct-taped body on the side of the road, so realistically the overall life improvement _appears_ relatively minimal.  He’s going to leave that story out the next time Old Hala calls to check up on him (actually, he’s going to let him go to answering machine like 000 always does when Old Hala calls, but that’s beyond the point).

“I do not believe this belongs to me,” 100kr mumbles, staring in confusion at the shirt as 000 clicks the desk lamp on.

“It’s not.  It’s mine.  And you can go back to bed, I wrote a report.”

100kr rubs his eyes, “Pardon?”

“I wrote the daily field report.  Go back to sleep." He takes his shirt out of 100kr’s hands and throws it over his own shoulders.

“I shall accompany you to fax it,” 100kr decides groggily, “Did the Chief mention something about flights?”

“Yeah, we fly home in the morning,” 000 grumbles, stuffing his feet into his shoes.  Well, they fly home in a few hours.  It's already morning, based on the infuriating level of sunlight now streaming through the window.

“Okay, please remind me and I shall set an alarm." He manages to pull his undershirt off the desk lamp (000 mentally gives himself props for originally landing it there) and slides it over his head.

By his calculations they'll have to leave the hotel in two hours for airport security.  000 will need to pack for both of them since 100kr is currently a little useless.  Hopefully the front desk isn’t too useless to call them a cab and hopefully 100kr empties everything out of his pants that might set off a metal detector.  000 didn’t feel anything that felt like weaponry earlier, but it’s 100kr.  There could be anything.

Fuck, he hasn't showered yet either.  They both need a shower.  Maybe 000 can talk 100kr into combining that task.

Eh, maybe not, they'll never make the flight if by some miracle of Tapu Bulu 100kr is up for that.  Moreover, there will be a twenty minute apology when 100kr inevitably isn't.  That can wait for the comfort of days off and 000's shitty Saffron apartment.

Well, no, 000 needs to scrub the greenish ring around the tub first.  _That_ will probably disturb his partner more than the laundry pile in the kitchen.  It'll probably come out with bleach?  000 honestly hasn't done anything cleaning-related with the bathroom since he moved in.  He's been ignoring the ring until it dies off on its own time or attempts communication.

He'll worry about the state of his shitty apartment _later._

MC822 has already faxed their airline tickets into the void by the time 100kr can scrounge up shoes and trudge down the six flights of stairs.  000 fumbles to make the damn machine accept his report.  He probably shouldn’t have stuffed it in his pocket whilst preventing his groggy partner from falling flat on his face.  The wrinkles in the page take forever to smooth out enough to feed into the damn thing.  

100kr snores lightly next him, dozing in an empty office chair, undershirt on backwards and wearing two different shoes.   It’s probably the most 100kr thing 000 has ever seen and it somewhat quells his urge to throw the fax machine across the room as it fails to recognize the Saffron office number for the nth time.  He can’t help but smile at his partner- a real smile, not his usual shit-eating grin.

Agent 000 desperately wishes he hadn’t left the camera upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H/C: Looker takes bed hog to an entirely different level. Why is Nanu so cranky? He once went a decade without sleeping and still hasn't recovered.
> 
> Also H/C: Looker pretty selectively decides what IP rules he's actually following to a T. I like the idea of him being slightly-nonsensically lawful-good, whereas Nanu is more a logical but chaotic-good.
> 
> There is actually another afterwards, it should be posted concurrently if my internet is working today. So hit 'next chapter'.


	16. Global Internal Memos: Selected Communications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Administrative emails surrounding the KsLuC-0957 mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: The author made the poor decision to write this in the style of an email chain. It is in chronological order at least, so as to not confuse folks. First email would theoretically be from around when 000 and 100kr were at the warehouse.

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Kalos director won’t get off the goddamn phone. 000 is a dead man.  Wasn’t how I wanted today to go!!

Hold a report to central until we can talk about this in person.

Let me know when the mission reports are faxed in.  I’ll have to switch this meeting over to visual in conference room 6J, cancel everybody else who had it for this afternoon.

If either he or 100kr calls or pages out, come get me!

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Mission reports have been faxed in, sitting in the basket on your desk for when you end your meeting with Kalos.

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

That little piece of shit has nothing in his fucking mission report!!! Thank fucking Arceus for 100kr, even if he apparently can't keep 000 under control to save his own life. This was the kind of fucking emergency I talked to him about before they left.

I want a drafted dismissal report for 000 so we don’t waste time on this when he does wind up paging out. And a nice pike to stick his fucking beachball head on.  Call any global currently near KsLuC and make sure they’re aware they might be doing a pickup run for the novices- I think there’s some slackers in KsCyC still.  The second that dismissal gets fired to central they’re on orders to drug 000 until return to KaSC.  No mission report on this.

2100 meeting with Kalos branch, round deux, drink coffee before you go.

Call the moles, since they need to look over the paperwork that got faxed in.  If 100kr’s report is accurate than we’re gonna need to talk to Indigo E4 about what’s going down in their abandoned KoViC gym.  Assign 7ty55 and ZZ001 on this and let them manage the moles from there.  After you finish the mission report, photocopy 100kr’s report and sharpie the strip club (“house of exotic dancing” is the phrase he’s going with…) bits out.  They’ve worked with less.

Also re-eval hazmit analysis and run on the basis they found real TR.

Get me 000’s hotel room on a secure outbound around 1800. I need to tear that little shit a new asshole before I have to talk to Kalos.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Attach: 000DissmissalDraft.wp; KsLuC_0957.wp

Subject: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

New risk evaluation for Agent 000 and Agent 100kr’s KsLuC mission and Agent 000’s dismissal report.  Central wants a call at 0800.

Would you like me to schedule an Indigo E4 meeting in the morning over the KoViC gym?

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Attach: KsLuC_0957.wp

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

I’m not meeting with Indigo until we have official ID on this admin.  Does me no good to say there’s a shitton of no-import heading to the KoViC gym from KsLuC without reasonable suspicion they’re TR.  Lance, Ags, and that little bitch over here are dual citz and Lorelei is from a disputed zone.  Don’t want to step on any tails if that stash turns out to be their order.  We do have to keep up our end of these arrangements... hell, if I was importing contraband I’d send it to the KoViC gym.

Anyway, made a lot of changes based on call:

Changed objective to “evidence of TR activity”, and put it back in recon.  Central will flip their fucking shit if we officially send two novices on a kidnapping run in a no-go zone.  They won’t question if those two magically turn up an admin, but they won’t question the coming of Arceus either and it’s about as likely.

000 has gotten his fucking permission to expense a camera so we’re at least covered on that end.  Factored in his chronically low bank account on the hazmit.

Lowered risk on 000’s shoulder as well.  100kr isn’t a bad field medic.  Just double check that’s thrown in his dismissal report so the extraction team doesn’t do any permanent damage recovering his ass.

Don’t forward this to Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumbshit, just send it to central.  I’d rather 000 hit the fucking pager and get his ass dismissed.  No sense in alerting him to the minimum line we have to technically let him skate.

Putting $30 on that 100kr threw the bit about 000 finding the papers and said he blew their cover to try to keep 000 from sounding totally helpless.  Bastard needs to grow some stones.  Have my doubts on him too after this, he knew 000 was out of line and he knew the drill if shit hit the fan.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Shall I move the org chart contingency meeting up from Wednesday?  Highest risk is still the death of two agents.

Do I need to prepare a dismissal report for 100kr?

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

You sweet summer child… the contingency in the org chart for two dead novice field agents is we get 2 more novice field agents Q1 next year from central training.

Up until the restructure we didn’t even put field agents under 5 years on the org chart at all….

I couldn’t dismiss 100kr even if I wanted to. Kid’s squeaky clean, central would never give it to me.  We’ll just hold his COL adjustment come Q4 if he lives.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Understand ma’am, just doublechecking.  I’m going to bed, call me for any new developments.

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Go get a 1200 cup o joe, this is about to be a wild ride!  Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee bagged a primary TR admin… so the KoViC gym is about to be on the horizon for TR related ops and we need to put out a fire with Kalos branch.  Tell ZZ001 to condense a report on his shit regarding the gym, but don’t bring up that bet.  I owe that fucker like six lunches as it is.

Video meeting with Kalos.  It’s about 0200 there so you’re going to need to wake a bunch of fuckers up, tho night shift should have mobilized Lumiose PD on TR so some directors might have assed themselves up.  Bring your A game, they gonna be mad.

Fuck, get their E4 on the line if you can too. Not likely but Kalos branch might be able to pull it off.

Daily report will be on the fax in about 2 hr rough odds, throw them in my box so I can review.  I’ll buy you dinner if 000’s actually say anything, but we need 100kr’s before we can tell off Kalos branch.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Meeting at 1700 with Kalos division, tentative representative from Kalos E4.

Shall I schedule you an Indigo E4 meeting as well?

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Hold on Indigo until further notice.  Lance doesn’t work afternoons.  Plus this Kalos shit is going to eat my evening.

Finish the draft end of mission report and forward to central stiffarming, I'm overstepping Kalos on this bitch.   Make sure analytics moles are cc’d on the draft for central btw, before we wind up finalizing another report without analytics (OOOPS, sorry moles).

Get me those two on a secure outbound, I haven’t seen a fucking daily report yet!! Arceus fucking damnit I was at least counting on 100kr for this!!  Apparently 000 had to put his stamp on that kidnapping.  Talking down the fucking Kalos branch director as I type.  Shot up a fucking strip club... I swear to Arceus he needs a leash.  Make sure there’s an administrative suspension report for him ready for when he asses his way back here.

Ping logistics and put Team Dumbass on a commercial inbound asap, coach.  Balance asap with cost this time, I don't want to see them that fucking badly.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Attach: 000SuspensionReport.wp

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Final suspension report finished, sorry for the delay.  Little too much excitement yesterday.  Shall I schedule your meeting with Indigo?

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Attach: 000SuspensionReport.wp

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Looks good, made a few clerical changes… he left a goddamn path of destruction bagging that admin and Kalos branch is sending the bill to us, so we'll have to piss test him and send him to disciplinary for the 10000th time.  I swear to Arceus, he kills me even when he's competent.  Changed suspension term too, he can sit out a little longer then that.  He cost us more than 6 weeks of pay in fucking damage control.  Thank Arceus our PR division stopped sucking ass in the restructure.

Fuck forgot about Lance.  Just get him on a live line 20 min after I get in, I want to hear the fucker sweat. I’m hitting every fucking red light this morning, it’ll be a bit.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

6 weeks no pay seems like a lot

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Gotta throw the dog his bone.  He done good, and he should have been fired for most of those stunts.

Fucking Lance isn’t taking this shit as evidence of TR at the KoViC gym and central is backing him on this. Who the fuck's getting a cut on embargoed incense and how the fuck do I get signed into this program??

Looks like we have to raid the game corner and hand him his fucking evidence in person.  All recon from there backs up Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dipshit… time to pick up some tangibles.  Schedule a meeting at 1500 about this.  Usual suspects and 100kr, since he’s also owed a bone…. And we don’t have budget for bonus on the KsLuC recon (and 000 doesn’t deserve bonus just for unfucking his clusterfuck).

Get logistics mobilized now, I want this rolled out asap.  Tired of sitting on my fucking hands around here.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Emails sent.  Also made an appointment with medical for 000’s injuries and a drug test.

Did you see the report Kalos division forwarded us about Lumiose City PD spotting two persons of the "rogue agents’" description getting intimate in a park?  Per the new guidelines, we can’t fire 000, but he'll have to be transferred.  There might be an opening in Sinnoh Branch.

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Just delete it.  For 1, have you met Motormouth?  “House of exotic dancing”… Lumiose City PD has no idea what the fuck they’re talking about, as if that’s a surprise to anyone.

For 2, if I transferred or fired agents every time they got caught fucking on a mission, I wouldn’t have a department.  Or a husband.  I hate 000, but if I start enforcing this kind of shit there’ll be a fucking mutiny. The business of peacekeeping starts at home.

\---

To: mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Actually, on second thought, leave them both but save that report.  Forgot some shit from earlier.

\---

To: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

From: mc822@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

? Shall I open a file?

\---

mc822@global.intlpd.net

From: 81chy@global.intlpd.net

Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: RE: Agents Dumbshits and Doofus in KsLuC

 

Keep it between us.

Got a bad feeling about 000 since that little fucking pain in my ass got here.  Fucker's a little too sharp to be a good field agent.  He may need some motivation to get the fucking job done correctly if he lives long enough to land something besides org crime.  Can’t hurt to start collecting bargaining chips now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist loosening some of those ends...
> 
> So, I wanted to write a couple more sagas in this fancannon (Mt. Moon, the construction of the Kanto-Johto railway, something with the Mewtwo project, Looker vs wormhole, etc). I will still try to get some of these done, even though they probably won't be as good. Unfortunately, I'm about to move about three states over to a new job that doesn't even vaguely resemble my current job and comes with 200% less fuck-around time (and much like Nanu, I should stop being such a shitty whatever-it-is-I-technically-do-for-a-living-I'm-not-horrible-sure). It'll be a good long while before I have enough free schedule to post another story. Knowing my luck, after the fandom is dead, but I held onto FE7 and AWDS far longer than I should have and I will do the same with this goddamnit.
> 
> Thanks for reading, folks!


End file.
